


Hi, My Name is Brian and I'm an Alcoholic

by sfscarlet



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-01-04 13:39:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 80,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18344786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sfscarlet/pseuds/sfscarlet
Summary: Title says it all.





	1. Chapter 1

"Hi. my name is Brian and I'm an alcoholic. Well, if you want to get technical, I abused quite a number of drugs but alcohol is my drug of choice. I've been drinking since I was 14 and I remember getting drunk for the first time when I was 15. My old man drank every night; in fact, he would come home to eat dinner and then go to the union hall to hang with his friends. We saw very little of him which was just fine with me. Oh, and did I forget to mention that my mother is also a drunk. She, of course, won't admit to it, as she uses Sherry to calm her nerves. She must have been the poster child for nervousness since she always had a glass in her hand. That is unless she was at church, praying for our salvation. According to her, I needed saving since homosexuals were going to hell. But that is a story for another day. I'm here tonight because I realize I need help. I had just dropped off my son at his mother's home. Yeah, I'm queer but I helped out a Lesbian friend who wanted a kid. I still got the jizz, just didn't plan on having the white picket fence and 2.4 kids. Again a story for another time. Anyway, I had my son for the day and dropped him off. His mothers were on my case, as usual, about the "bad influence I was on him since I tricked a lot and didn't want to settle down". I was tired of their ranting and went to the bar to utilize my favorite form of pain management, a few drinks. After drinking for several hours, I got in the car to drive home. Of course, most of you know the drill and can figure out where this story is going. But for those of you who need the details.... I was drunk and should not have been driving. I wrapped my car around a tree, but lucky for me, I didn't hurt anybody, but realized I could have. If I hurt someone or myself, what would happen to my kid? So here I am. I've been sober for 1 week."

 

"Thanks for sharing Brian. Anyone else want to share?" A middle age man with slight greying at the temples said. "I'm Tom, by the way." He shook Brian's hand and turned back to the podium to hear the next speaker.

 

A younger man with beautiful blue eyes and blond hair stood up, walking to the front of the room and stopped when he got to the podium. "I'm Justin. I've been sober for one year today. Every day has been a struggle but with the help of my sponsor and this group, I'm happy to show off my 1-year chip."

 

Everyone in the audience clapped and Justin flashed a smile that lit up his face. Justin returned to his seat as another person went up to the podium. Each person shared with the group. There were a few, like Brian who had been sober for less than a month, but many more were celebrating their sobriety in terms of months or years. 

 

When Brian first walked into the meeting, he had to fight the urge to turn around and leave. Taking a deep breath, he remembered why he was here. He wanted to be around for Gus. He wanted his son to be proud of his father, not cringe every time his name was spoken. "Pity made his dick soft." and he knew that if there was even a slight show of pity for his situation, he would leave. Checking into a treatment center would let Gus' moms know he had a problem and that might jeopardize his ability to be with his son. He couldn't let that happen. He had to succeed at this; therefore he would do it. However, he realized that these stories were not about pity, but about triumph. They were celebrating success; they were celebrating overcoming adversity and he decided that maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. 

 

His friend, Ted had urged him to attend a program. He'd had a fling with Crystal and it had almost cost him his life. Ted had been clean for 5 years. Brian did not want to attend the group where Ted went, preferring to keep his life private. Few knew about Brian's private life and he wanted to keep that part of him away from Ted. Ted was one of his closest friends and he trusted him, but there were some parts of Brian that no one was privy to.

 

"Everyone thanks for coming. We have coffee, tea, and cookies in the back. Stay as long as you want, but remember the hall has bingo in an hour and they might wrangle you into work if you stick around," Tom said as he pointed to the back of the room. Everyone laughed at his statement and the majority of the participants headed for the back of the room.

 

Brian's first urge was to head straight out to the street, but then reality set in. He would normally go to Woody's or Babylon, have a few beers, maybe pick up a tab of Ecstasy or some Special K and then fuck his way through the night. He wasn't ready to tackle that temptation yet. He figured the "gang" would question his absence but not too much. He occasionally had work commitments that kept him away on from Woody's and Babylon. The real challenge would come when they hadn't seen him cross the threshold for several weeks. He headed back to the refreshment table where he located the coffee.

 

The gorgeous blond was standing by the coffee urn and chatting with another participant but was blocking the pot. Brian waited for a break in the conversation and eventually just said, "Excuse me. I'd like some coffee."

 

Both men looked at him and apologized.

 

Justin said, "You're Brian right?"

 

"Yeah," Brian wasn't in the mood for small talk, but he answered.

 

"The coffee here is not that great. Want to grab a cup at the diner down the street."

 

Brian wasn't sure what to make of the invitation. He wasn't one to grab "a coffee". He saw something he liked and went after it, rarely having to do more than look at the trick to get his cock sucked. But this wasn't Babylon and he wasn't likely to be going there tonight. Besides, he had to find something to do with his evening as he had just admitted to himself that he couldn't exactly go to his normal haunts.

 

"Ok. Lead the way."

 

Justin made his way toward the exit greeting several people by name on the way out. He waited for Brian to get to the front of the building and pointed to the street up ahead.

 

"The Butterwood Bake Consortium is pretty good. They're open till 11:00 and their coffee is local. Plus you can sit there for a long time and no one will give you the evil eye. It's mostly a dessert place, and I have a secret sweet tooth. It's just a short walk. Do you want to walk or would you rather take your car? The parking is okay. It's a nice night tonight so I thought we could walk, but whatever you want."

 

Brian cringed as he listened to the young man. He was talking a mile a minute and giving him way too much information. He just wanted a damn cup of coffee. He could choose to walk away but the prospect of a Saturday night by himself in his loft was too much to contemplate. 

 

"We can walk."

 

"Great. My name is Justin, by the way."

 

"Okay."

 

They walked in silence and soon came to the bakery. Justin opened the door and a familiar jingle rattled the door as he walked in. Brian looked around, wanting to ensure no one here knew him. He had chosen to attend a group far away from Liberty avenue but the jangle of the bell brought him right back to the Liberty Diner. He half expected Debbie to greet him with her familiar "Brian" as he walked into the establishment. Thankfully, no one looked familiar and he followed Justin to a small table in the back. 

 

Justin said, "You want some coffee or dessert? Here's the menu. The waitress will be here in a few minutes.

 

Brian looked at Justin, taking the menu and carefully opening it. He needed something to do and this was at least a task he was familiar with. Talking to someone in a small dessert cafe was so foreign to Brian he questioned his sanity for the 3rd time this evening. Whatever possessed him to follow this stranger to this place. He wasn't going to eat dessert and he imagined this guy was expecting conversation, like a date. Brian Kinney did not do dates. He did not do casual conversation and he most certainly did not do dessert cafes. But he was here and he did not want to go home. He calculated in his head that he could manage 30 minutes and then reasonably excuse himself to return to his loft. Once there, he'd just think about how crappy his life was at this moment in time. 

 

The waitress came and took their orders, bringing them some water to drink while their food and coffee was prepared. 

 

Justin watched Brian, the familiar eyes darting around the restaurant in search of someone he knew finding him there. He saw the fidgeting with the sugar and sweetener packets and repeated fingers to the bridge of Brian's nose, trying to push a headache or some other thing away from his head. 

 

"So you wrapped your car around a tree. That sucks. You have a new car yet?" Justin asked, trying to get Brian to talk.

 

"Huh. What? How did you..."

 

"I was at the meeting. Remember. You said you wrapped your car.."

 

"Oh, right. The insurance company is still deciding how much they're going to pay me for it. It was a Jeep. Right now, I'm driving around in a Toyota Camry." Brian made a face of disgust.

 

Justin laughed.

 

"The jeep suits you better," Justin said, drinking a sip of his water.

 

"How the hell would you know what suits me? You just met me. I don't think this is a good idea." Brian stood up to leave, but Justin reached out his hand to pull him back down to the table.

 

"Look. I was where you were a year ago. One of the tenets of AA is that you get a sponsor, someone you can call when you need help. You looked pretty lost in the meeting and I'm guessing you don't want to go home and you can't go to your usual places on Saturday night. I thought I'd offer my services as a sponsor."

"What the fuck is a sponsor and why would you help me?" Brian stood turning toward Justin but not sitting down.

 

"AA is a self-help group. Hopefully, you picked up some of the literature on the back table, but if not we can talk about it. There are no rules per se. People volunteer to lead the group but its all voluntary. One of its most basic foundations is that we all benefit from support and that it's helpful to have one person who can support you as you work through your sobriety. A sponsor is someone you can call any time when you need to talk or are fearful of slipping and using again. Even if you do slip, the sponsor is there to help you."

 

"Sounds like a fucking Public Service Announcement."

 

Justin did not bristle at Brian's words, deciding they were a defense mechanism for his fear of the unknown. Instead, he said, "I can be your sponsor. I've been clean for a year and I think I can help you."

 

The waitress brought their coffee and Justin's mocha cheesecake. He took a small bite of the cheesecake and made an obscene groan of pleasure which made Brian's dick twitch. 

 

He thought maybe he could get a fuck out of this guy. He wasn't sure about the sponsor shit, but with a mouth like this guy had and that bubble butt, he was certain it was a better way to spend his evening than talking about sponsors and sobriety. He smiled at Justin and Justin saw the predatory look on Brian's face.

 

"We're not supposed to start any relationships for a year after we are sober. We need to concentrate our minds and lives on working the program," Justin said.

 

"I didn't say that I wanted a relationship. I'm just interested in fucking. I don't believe in love; I believe in fucking. It's honest, it's efficient. You get in and out with the maximum of pleasure and minimum of bullshit."

 

Justin winced at Brian's words and a small frown showed around his mouth. "We're not sleeping together. If you followed me to the coffee shop for a quick foray to the men's room, I'm not interested. Look, Brian, sobriety is hard. I know. I was where you were a year ago. I'm offering to help you. Do you want my help?" Justin said. He tried to be as forceful as possible but didn't want to turn Brian against the program. He'd been reluctant to take a sponsor, though he could do it on his own, but after a few weeks, he realized that his sponsor was a key to his success. "

 

"I know you are thinking that this guy is just blowing smoke, but why don't you think about it. I go to meetings every day. I'll be at the meeting tomorrow at the ARC Manner at 2:00. I hope to see you there." Justin stood up and offered his hand to Brian and Brian shook it. Justin threw some money on the table for his part of the bill and walked out the door.

 

Brian looked around the small bakery to see if anyone was watching him. He'd never had anyone walk out on him. Of course, he'd never gone for dessert and coffee either, so maybe it really didn't count. Who the fuck did this Justin guy think he was? Offering his sponsorship, like he was a fucking charity case. Reminded him of the advertisements in his mother's church crap about starving children in Ethiopia or wherever asking for sponsorship of the child. For $20.00 a month, you could adopt this child and give him food, clothing, and education. Well, Brian Kinney did not need any help to remain sober. He would show them.

 

Brian stood up, took out his wallet and put money down on the table. He walked out of the bakery and down to his car. He really wanted a drink but decided to go home instead. Brian Kinney was not going to fail at this; Brian Kinney never failed at anything he set out to do. And this was definitely not going to be his first failure. 

 

TBC


	2. All Dressed Up With No Place To Go

Brian walked back to his car, looking down the street hoping he wouldn't see any familiar faces. On any given day he didn't care what people thought about him but, today he wanted to remain anonymous. He didn't want to explain why he was in this part of town on a Saturday night instead of at Babylon or at some work function. The moment he wrapped his car around a fucking tree, realizing he could have hurt Gus had the accident happened when he was with Brian, changed him. Brian Kinney did not apologize, but maybe this time, he should evaluate his policy.

 

He got in his car and looked at the clock. It was only 8:00 pm. and he had an entire Saturday night ahead of him. Even he did not work on Saturday night, so going to the office was really out of the question. He couldn't go to Mel and Linds' home; they would know something was up when he showed up there instead of at Babylon. He could just hear Mel's rant about why he wasn't getting his dick sucked by the man of the hour. Linds would be worried that something was wrong and coddle him until he told her. 

 

Since he wasn't ready to hit Babylon or Woodys and he couldn't go to the munchers, that left Michael's, Ted's or Debbie's place. He couldn't go to Michael or Debbie's as they'd be just as likely to question his absence at Babylon. He knew Michael would whine until he gave in and went dancing with him at Babylon. Michael would give him some stupid speech about how he was Brian fucking Kinney and the stud of Liberty Avenue and that he should be at Babylon showing off. He already knew he would hear about his absence tomorrow. Saturday night at Babylon was about as cliche as they got and all of them went there.

 

His only choice was Ted's home and he wasn't sure that was a good idea. In the end, he decided that maybe he should go there. Ted was the only one who really knew the truth about the car and his interest in AA. He parked his car in Ted's driveway and knocked on the door. To say that Ted was surprised to see him was an understatement, but Ted waved him in and motioned for him to sit on the sofa. Ted had a CD of Madame Butterfly playing, but turned it off when Brian sat down.

 

"Brian, everything okay? You didn't wrap your car around another tree?" he said, slightly in jest, but also of concern. 

 

Ted got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water and handing Brian one. Ted was the only one who knew he had wrecked his car while he was drunk. While he couldn't hide a new car from all his friends, Ted was his accountant and also a close friend. Ted was the one who encouraged him to get sober, and he trusted him implicitly.

 

"No trees have been injured by me tonight. I went to an AA meeting instead," Brian said as if he was announcing he bought a coffee at the Starbucks. He twirled the bottle in his hand but didn't open it.

 

Ted nodded his head in acknowledgment. On the one hand, he wanted to congratulate Brian for the first step, but on the other hand, he knew how tenuous Brian's situation was. He remembered the first time he admitted to having a problem with drugs and those first steps were emblazoned in his mind. He'd woken up in a doctor's house feeling sore and bruised. When he made his way to join the people in the house they were watching a video of some guy having sex with a lot of people. He seemed to be really high and out of it. As he watched, he realized it was him, he was the guy having sex with all those men. He raced out of the house, got sick on the lawn and made his way home. He was terrified that he had ruined his life by contracting HIV, but he was lucky. All he had to show for his night of debauchery was some bruised muscles and a huge sense of remorse. He also realized that he was down the rabbit hole and needed to fix his life. He checked into rehab and the rest was history.

 

He'd been clean for 5 years and had eventually hooked up with his husband, Blake. Blake had been a counselor at the center and they started a relationship a few months after he'd been released. Blake realized that this was not a good idea and had broken it off. He stressed to Ted that people in recovery needed to wait at least a year to make major changes in their lives. They needed to work the program and get a good handle on their sobriety before tackling relationship issues. Too many big changes in your life would ultimately sabotage your sobriety. Blake had been right and when they did meet again, Ted had his first-year chip and Kinnetik was prospering.

 

"How was it?" Ted took a drink from his bottle of water and then screwed the cap back on. He was glad this gave him a slight diversion.

 

"Okay." Brian didn't want to share that he got up and talked, even now that was a surprise to him. While he was comfortable talking to strangers, making pitches for campaigns, and entertaining them was a part of the job, he did not often share personal information. Brian was a very private person and the fact that he shared so much, especially with strangers was still surprising. After listening to two other participants tell their story, he decided that he needed to do it as well. Brian Kinney never did anything halfway and if he was going to do this sobriety thing, he needed to do it right.

 

"Nowhere to go, tonight?" Ted asked, realizing why Brian was here.

 

"You go to Babylon and to Woody's and I know you don't drink anymore. How do you not want a drink?" Brian asked, the question burning in his brain since he left the AA meeting.

 

"It took a long time, Brian." Ted put the water bottle on the table and reached out for Brian's hand, thinking to offer a squeeze in support, but thought better of the idea and placed his hands in his lap.

 

"What the hell did you do at night? I've always gone to Babylon and Woody's to have a few drinks and have my cock sucked. It's what I do at night. I've been going to the bars since I was 17 and I'm 31." Brian finally unscrewed the cap on the bottle of water, took a drink and then placed the cap back on.

 

"I go to work and then I go to the gym. Sometimes Blake fixes dinner, sometimes I do, or we do it together. We talk about our day and clean the house. Then we watch a little tv, maybe play a game and then go to bed." 

 

"That is boring as fuck."

 

"Going to the bar and getting drunk or high is exciting?" Ted asked.

 

"Sure," Brian said.

 

Ted heard the hesitancy in his voice and decided to push. After all, Brian had shown up here and he obviously wanted something.

 

"How is it exciting, Brian? You mostly go there to pick up guys. You can get your dick sucked anywhere. You can go to the baths, go to the gym, hell I've even seen you heist a waiter or two in a classy restaurant. Explain to me what exactly is exciting about getting high or drunk since the major activity there seems to be to get off."

 

Ted watched his friend. He was obviously struggling to listen but he could see the restraint it was taking not to stand up and storm out of Ted's house. Brian wanted someone to fix this problem. He was used to having everything that went wrong be remedied by throwing money at it. Unfortunately, this was not something that money could fix. It would take time and hard work. While Brian Kinney was used to hard work, he had tangible results to show for it. Sobriety was anything but tangible. A sober person could not show winning ads, a huge bonus or an award for sobriety. The closest thing to an award were the chips that people earned for each milestone of sobriety. Brian wasn't likely to go around waving those banners of success, especially when he didn't want his friends to know about this demon in his closet.

 

Brian stared at his friend, surprised at his bluntness and his willingness to question him. "I like the conquest. You know, seeing all the men lined up in one place and I get to choose which one to fuck."

 

"So really it's about fucking, not about drinking or drugs?"

 

"The drinks and drugs are part of the whole process."

 

"So how is it different when you pick up a guy at the gym or at a restaurant. I know you're not drinking at the gym. I've seen you work out."

 

"Well, yeah," Brian said, listening to Ted and realizing that maybe he had a point. "But I'm there to keep fit. When guys see my body, they want it. So the gym is just another pickup opportunity."

 

Ted thought a bit before answering. He knew Brian did other things besides pick up guys, but he had to think about what he knew about his friend. "You like the conquest. That's why you love Kinnetik. It's about winning over the client."

 

"Sure. That sounds right."

 

"Brian, your whole life isn't about conquest. You do other things. When you're with Gus you don't pick up guys."

 

"Of course not. He's a child and Linds would never let me see him if she thought I was tricking when he was with me," Brian said, answering the question as if it were ridiculous.

 

"What about Sunday dinner at Deb's? Do you think about leaving to get your needs met?

 

"No. Debbie already gives me enough grief when I don't show up due to work. If she thought I was blowing her off to have sex, she'd have my head, and not in a life-affirming way. 

 

"So you do have times in your day where you're not thinking about conquest?

 

"Sure."

 

"Okay. So you figure out what you like to do that doesn't involve conquest," Ted said as if he provided the magic bullet to Brian's sobriety.

 

"I'll lose my business and my sex life will be non-existent. I don't think your solution is going to work."

 

"Brian, I didn't mean it like that. Let me try again. You need to find things that you like to do while you work on this. Maybe you need to find a hobby. I'm not suggesting you give up sex, that would be like asking you to stop breathing. But right now you need to learn to separate sex from drinking and drugs. Blake and I have sex on a regular basis and we do not need to be drunk or high to do it."

 

"Stop, I do not want to know about your sex life," Brian said and he scrunched his mouth. "So you're suggesting I find a bunch of boring things to fill my time."

 

"No, Brian. Obviously, you aren't going to come home and cook dinner and watch a movie on a regular basis. But one of the first steps to sobriety is getting away from the people or activities that you connect with using."

 

"I'm not sure about any of this. I think it was easier to just drink, do drugs and have sex every night, This sounds like bullshit," Brian said, beginning to question why he thought coming here was a good idea.

 

"Brian, have you eaten dinner? Blake will be home from work in about 30 minutes. Why don't you join us?" Ted asked, understanding that he couldn't push Brian too much at this stage. Brian needed something to do tonight or the tenuous hold he had on sobriety would be gone before he really had a chance to figure it out.

 

Brian recognized what Ted was doing and he appreciated the offer. He had come here because he needed help and since Brian Kinney never asked for help, he was glad that his friend recognized his need. Before he could stop himself he said, "Okay. I'll stay for dinner but...."

 

"Brian, this is just an offer between two friends. I imagine you haven't told anyone else about your car or the meeting tonight?" Ted asked as he moved toward the kitchen.

 

"No. Michael would most likely try to talk me out of it. He thinks I am perfect and that my life is without problems. Obviously, I won't tell Linds and Debbie would be all over me asking if I was hurt and feeding me trays of lasagna."

 

"I'm glad you came here. Now, why don't you help me set the table and finish prepping dinner?" Ted said as turned the light on inside the oven to check on the roast.

 

Ted directed Brian to where the plates, silverware, and glasses were kept while he cooked some vegetables and sliced the meat. As they were completing the preparations, Blake came home.

 

After placing his keys in the basket by the door and hanging up his messenger bag, he inhaled the delicious aroma of the roast. Glancing at the table, he saw it was set for three and was surprised to see Brian in the kitchen with his husband. He walked into the kitchen and gave Ted a kiss on the lips as a welcome home gesture. Ted returned the kiss, but they did not linger, mindful of their guest.

 

"Brian, is everything okay with Kinnetik?"

 

"Kinnetik is fine. I came to see Ted as a friend," Brian said, realizing that at this point in time, Ted was his preferred friend and that he really didn't want Michael involved.

 

"Oh," Blake said, taken by surprise.

 

Brian needed to make a quick decision and he knew at that moment that he wanted Ted's help on this journey. He also knew that he didn't want to hurt Ted or his relationship with Blake. "I wrapped my car around a tree a week ago. I shouldn't have been driving since I was very drunk. Ted is the only one who knows this information. Well, I guess you do now as well. I went to an AA meeting tonight. I knew I couldn't go to Babylon or Woody's so I ended up here." Brian didn't really like sharing any of his personal life, but he knew Blake would keep his secrets.

 

Blake listened, surprised at Brian's confession. Brian knew that Blake was a substance abuse counselor and that Ted had an affair with Crystal in the past. He understood what it was like to start sobriety and he was pleased that Brian was taking those first steps.

 

"Can I help? I am a licensed substance abuse counselor."

 

"No. I don't think that is a good idea. I need anonymity and I know you wouldn't tell anyone in the family, but I don't want to put you in that position. Besides, isn't it against some doctor oath not to treat your family?" Brian said the last sentence with a hint of sarcasm.

 

"I'm glad you feel that way. I really don't want to be a part of your sobriety team, for just that reason. But, feel free to call or come by whenever you need. We'll keep your secret."

 

"I'll be fine. I don't need any help," Brian said.

 

"Let's eat, I'm starving," Ted said, trying to move the conversation to more neutral areas. 

 

The three men ate dinner and did not mention Brian's sobriety the entire meal. After dinner, they cleared the table and put away the leftovers.

 

"Brian, we were going to watch the performance of Pavarotti on PBS. Would you like to join us?" Ted said.

 

"No, I'd rather not watch my ears bleed. I'll just head home. See you on Monday. Thanks for the meal." Brian got up and went to the door. Ted followed him.

 

"Bri, be careful and stay safe. Call if you need anything."

 

"Good night, Theodore," Brian said and left their home.


	3. The Hook Up

Brian got in his car and looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was after 10:00, too late to show up at the Munchers but too fucking early to call it a night. He knew he couldn't go to Woody's or Babylon. It was too soon to tempt his body, but he desperately wanted a tight ass or a warm mouth. He didn't relish the idea of picking up a waiter since that would involve going through the motions of ordering and hoping that a decent man would be serving him. Brian Kinney knew his options were limited and returned to his loft.

 

After changing his clothes and getting into a pair of old jeans and a wife beater, he turned on his computer and logged into his favorite hookup site, Easysex.com. He perused the offerings and finally found one that looked acceptable. This guy's profile stated he only wanted casual sex, not looking for a relationship and his picture was okay. Brian wished he had shot a pic of his butt and cock, but he guessed that would be too much like porn and the players would shut the site down. Brian clicked on the profile and waited.

 

Within five minutes he got a response and he gave the guy his address. Brian briefly chastised himself that he was resorting to a hookup site to get his cock sucked when normally guys would be clamoring to hook up with him. Desperate times called for desperate measures and he decided these were desperate times. If he didn't get his cock sucked soon, he'd go crazy.

 

He continued to look at the site, enjoying the eye candy and waited impatiently for the trick to buzz so he could let him in. It took the man 15 minutes to get there and Brian wondered just what the delay was, especially since the idea of the web site was to find people who were really close by. No matter, when the buzzer rang, he buzzed the man up and stood at the door waiting for the old elevator to bring his trick up.

 

The lanky brunette man got off the elevator and Brian eyed him with the look of a starving animal who hadn't eaten in days. Brian practically pulled him into the loft, barely giving him time to get off the elevator. Brian didn't believe in foreplay, wanting to get off as soon as he could. Brian pulled his pants down and leaned against the chair from the dining room table. The trick got down on his knees and opened his mouth to take Brian and his 9 ½ inch cock inside. Brian was large and he was unable to blow the entire length. He sucked on the head, twirling his tongue around the crown. He licked the underside and played with his balls. He kept his teeth covered and Brian soon felt the familiar tightening of his balls and came, shooting his jizz down the man's throat. The guy turned, stood up, trying to kiss Brian but he said, "I don't kiss. I fuck. Get in with a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of bullshit."

 

The man started to pull down his pants to have his turn, but Brian smirked at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

 

"My turn."

 

"I don't think so. The bed's in there if you want to go another round."

 

The lanky man shrugged his shoulders and made his way toward the bed, stripping his clothes off as he went. He knew he was in the home of Brian "fucking" Kinney and had always wanted to experience the acclaimed fuck. He knew that usually, Brian trolled the avenue, but tonight he was in his apartment. The man wasn't going to say no to a session with the legend.

 

Brian stripped as he made his way to the bedroom. The lanky man turned on his stomach, spreading his legs, giving Brian access to his hole. He would have loved to feel Brian's tongue down his back and on his hole, but from what he'd just experienced, he doubted that would happen. Brian Kinney did not give in to anyone. Brian grabbed the lube from his nightstand, after all, he had to have supplies at easy reach wherever he was in his home. He lubed his fingers and plunged them into the trick's ass. He started with two and watched in disinterest as the man started to squirm from the increased pressure and pleasure. Taking his fingers away, he wiped them on the bed sheets and sheathed his cock before pushing into the tight ring of muscle. He grabbed the man's hips and used the leverage to pull his willing body to him with each thrust. The brunette was breathing heavy, his heart racing with the increased activity. Brian was enjoying the ride; the man had a very tight ass and his cock was held in a glorious vice. The man pushed back into Brian as well and soon they were both moving toward the finish line. Brian ejaculated into the condom and the trick ejaculated on his fingers that were milking his cock. Brian pulled away, holding the condom as he removed himself. Tying the condom off, he threw it toward the trash at the side of the bed and then lay on his back to catch his breath.

 

"That was excellent," the trick said. "I can see why they call you the "Stud of Liberty Avenue". Want to go again?"

 

Brian was game, he had nothing else to do this evening. "Sure." So Brian and the trick du jour had sex two more times in the next hour and a half. 

 

Brian looked at his bed after the fourth round of sex in three hours and it was a tangle of sheets and bedclothes. It also reeked of sex. While Brian loved sex, he disliked the smell of old cum. He was finally worn out enough to sleep and didn't want the man there. "Time for you to go," he said, dismissing him like a child in Victorian England who had been brought out for the guests to admire and then sent back to the nursery with the nanny.

 

"Can't I sleep here?"

 

"No. I don't do sleepovers. I'm not 14. Grab your clothes and get out," Brian said, already losing patience with the trick. He'd served his purpose and now needed to leave.

 

"Okay. Okay. But if you ever want to hook up again, I'm game."

 

"Out," Brian said, exasperated with the trick. "Now!"

 

The man grabbed his clothes, quickly putting them on and opened the door. Brian got out of bed, closed the sliding door, locked it and set the alarm. Sniffing himself, he decided a shower was in order after he stripped the sheets. He changed the sheets, throwing them in the wash and then moved to the bathroom to clean himself. 

 

It was almost 1:00 am, a little early to go to bed on a Saturday night, but he didn't have the desire to try and find something to occupy his mind. At least he had fucked a few times. 

 

Sunday morning came and Brian went to the gym as usual. After the gym, he usually went to the diner for breakfast with "the boyz" and decided that he could safely navigate that meal. It was a tradition that the men would meet without their significant others. It was an opportunity to hang out together and bond. He occasionally didn't show up on a Saturday night to Babylon due to some work function, but missing Sunday brunch was highly unusual.

 

Ted was sitting with Michael and Emmett at their booth in the back of the diner when Brian arrived. 

 

"Brian, missed you last night, guess you had some big Kinnetik function to attend?" Michael asked. 

 

"Michael, I had things to do."

 

"You coming to Babylon tonight. It's Duds and Studs, one of your favorites."

 

"It's early in the day, Michael. I don't plan every minute of every day. I like to be spontaneous. Now, I've just worked out for an hour and a half and I'm ready for some food," Brian said, the shortness in his reply evident even to Michael.

 

"Okay." Michael waved to Debbie and she came over to their table. 

 

"What'll it be?" She asked with her pen poised above her tablet.

 

"Egg white omelet with wheat toast, dry," Brian said.

 

"I'll have the pancakes,' Michael said.

 

"I'll have the breakfast special," Emmett said.

 

"Me, too," Ted said.

 

The men talked and chatted about their lives. Michael talked about the latest Comic-Con that he planned on attending in two weeks. Emmett shared the latest gossip about his most recent bridezilla. Ted talked about the Opera that he and Blake were going to see in New York in two weeks. Brian listened and did not volunteer anything. He didn't want to share about the big changes in his life and luckily for him, his friends were so involved in their conversation that they did not notice that he was not talking. Truth be told, Brian often did not talk about his life, preferring to listen and stay on the fringes of the conversation. He was a private person as a result of his difficult childhood, and he sometimes wondered how he even had a group of friends that made up his family. 

 

They ate their food and it was close to noon when they vacated the diner, stating they would see each other at Debbie's later that afternoon. Brian went back to his loft and worked for an hour or so, but then felt the need to get out. He was restless and he didn't know what he wanted to do. While he could go to see Gus, he knew showing up in the middle of a Sunday afternoon would spark alarm bells in the muncher's mind since he was planning on seeing Gus at Deb's family dinner. He grabbed his keys, wallet and cell phone and put on his jacket. There was a piece of paper in the pocket and it had the address of the AA meeting that blond he met last night had given him. He hadn't planned on attending a meeting again, but the thought of the blond made him change his mind. 

 

He drove to the address and found the meeting with little difficulty. Sitting in the back, he listened to the speakers and tried to pay attention. Mostly he was looking for that nice piece of blond ass. As he was looking around the room, he felt someone sit down next to him.

 

"You get more out of the meeting if you're paying attention to the speaker instead of people watching," Justin said as he smiled at Brian.

 

Brian looked at him and smiled back. "I was listening," Brian said, not wanting to admit he had been looking for Justin. 

 

Now that Brian had found Justin or maybe the other way around, he turned into the meeting. At the time, a woman was talking about her use of alcohol to escape her abusive father. Other members of the group talked about how they started using alcohol and Brian found himself listening to their stories and nodding his head in agreement with many of their situations. Justin watched him, trying to learn a little about him. He'd always like to watch people and found he learned a lot about them just by watching. He'd learned that actions spoke much louder than words, especially in maintaining sobriety. Unfortunately, he'd seen too many instances where a person spoke about their desire for sobriety but still continued to drink. He knew that was not a good option if you wanted to work the program. Abstinence was the key to success. 

 

The leader, Bob, said, "Thanks everyone for sharing. Sobriety is a journey, and no one is alone on this journey. Coffee is in the back. A sheet with a list of meetings is also there if anyone needs to know where to get support before our next meeting." 

 

The crowd stood up and most of them walked back to the table where the coffee and brochures were located. Brian hadn't decided if he was going to head back to the table, but his decision was influenced when Justin said, "The coffee is better here."

 

He watched Justin move toward the back and he followed. When the line thinned by the coffee pot, he grabbed a styrofoam cup and filled it with coffee, grabbed several packets of sugar and emptied those into the cup as well. Grabbing a coffee stirrer, he mixed the ingredients together and blew on the hot liquid. He nodded his head in agreement with Justin's earlier statement.

 

"Not bad. Definitely better than yesterday," Brian said, wondering when his conversational topic of choice was to discuss the merits of coffee. He had sunken really low. Watching Justin take a sip of his coffee and walk toward a small group of people, Brian didn't want to see him leave. "Do you have a rating for all the coffee at AA meetings?" Brian asked, realizing the question sounded as silly as he felt. Usually, his pickup lines consisted of do you want to fuck? This banal talk of coffee and meetings was challenging.

 

Justin smiled at Brian's attempt at conversation but wanted to continue talking to the tall, mysterious man. "I guess. I love coffee and I am familiar with the coffee in lots of places, not just AA meetings."

 

"I see. And who has the best coffee? I know you steered me to that diner yesterday, but that was because it was late and not many places were open in that part of town." Brian couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. If he didn't know better, he was almost flirting with this man. Brian Kinney did not flirt. He wondered if sobriety would change everything about his life. 

 

Justin put his hand out and placed it on Brian's arm, steering him toward a less busy section of the area. When they were away from the crowd, Justin said, "I'd say the best place has to be Espresso A Mano. They have a variety of coffees and the expresso is of course, delicious. Then there is Big Dog Coffee. There is a whole menu there, soups, breakfast and of course coffee. I'd say third place is Commonplace Coffee Company. They have a gazillion lattes and they are always making new flavors. They don't have as many choices for food, but the expresso options make up for it,"

 

"I sense a theme here. You like espressos and Lattes. So, what is your favorite brew?"

 

"I'm not sure. It really depends on my mood. Sometimes I want flavors like pumpkin spice and other times I just want an espresso. It reminds me of Europe, and I like that."

 

"So, you've been to Europe?" Brian asked. He eyed the young man, thinking that there must be more to him than meets the eye if he had actually been to Europe.

 

"Yes," Justin didn't want to elaborate. The whole point of AA was anonymity. As an artist, he was well known in certain circles, but he'd chosen to attend meetings where he hoped he would have less chance of being recognized. He'd been on several tours of Europe, but that had been several years ago before his drinking had overtaken his life.

 

Justin looked around and noticed that the crowd had thinned out and there were only a few people remaining from the meeting. He enjoyed this man's company, a scary thought as he knew that it was an avenue that he shouldn't pursue. He wanted to get to know him better and maybe being his sponsor could afford him that opportunity. He knew that he didn't have to develop a relationship with him in order to help him. "If you're not busy, we could go try some of that coffee that you've been grilling me about."

 

Brian looked at his watch and shook his head. "Can't, I've got somewhere to be at 5:00. What about tomorrow? Do you go to any meetings on Mondays?"

 

Every brain cell in Justin's mind screamed at him that he was going down a very slippery slope, but he ignored them all. Here was a man who appeared intelligent and interesting, something he sorely missed and he was going to go with his gut, rules be damned. "Yeah. I still try to hit a meeting every day. I usually go to the noon meeting at the Second Chance Community Church."

 

"I can't do noon, has to be something after work hours," Brian said, mentally reviewing his calendar for the next day. He knew if he saw Justin again, he would want to push the young man to have coffee and preferably more, so he needed time and the middle of the workday was not going to do it.

 

"There's an 8:00 meeting at the Unity United Presbyterian Church. I've gone to that one," Justin suggested.

 

"8:00 should work just fine. See you then." Brian threw away his empty coffee cup and Justin did the same. They walked out of the building, each man going in a different direction, but both thinking about the other one.

 

TBC


	4. Distractions

Brian went back to his Loft and worked for an hour or so before it was time to leave for Debbie's. He had a hard time concentrating as thoughts of Justin swirled through his head. He was already looking forward to the meeting tomorrow night. If sobriety were as easy as meeting up with Justin, he could do this without any difficulties.

 

When Brian arrived at Debbie's he was greeted by Michael. 

 

"I'll get you a beer. Ma's got some cold," Michael offered. 

 

Brian felt a cold chill run down his back. It was a week ago today that he'd wrapped his car around the tree. He was surprised that Mikey hadn't noticed the new ride, but luckily Mikey was often oblivious to small changes. A cold beer sounded wonderful, but he saw Ted and Blake sitting on the sofa. While he knew they wouldn't say a word, their looks would be sufficient as to the choices he made. 

 

"I'm good Mikey," Brian said as he steered toward Gus. "Hey, Sonny Boy. What are you building?" Brian asked as he sat down next to the little boy playing on Debbie's floor.

 

"Momma bought me some new cars and a garage to put them in. Play with me daddy," Gus said as he made noises with the car as he pushed it along the floor.

 

Brian was glad for the distraction and picked up a car, pushing it along the floor as well. Michael left Brian playing with Gus as he had no interest in this activity. He was still surprised at how much time Brian spent with the little boy considering he originally had no interest in children. They played together until it was time to eat. 

 

As they sat around the table, many of the people had a glass of wine or a beer in front of their plate, but Brian continued to refuse the offers of liquor. Ted and Blake nodded their heads imperceptibly in acknowledgment of Brian's choices. The family didn't notice this silent communication, but Brian appreciated the silent support. Each time Emmett's husband Drew would take a swig of his beer, Brian watched the man's throat swallow and he longed for a taste. It didn't matter that the beer he was drinking was nothing special and one that Brian really didn't like, he yearned for the slight buzz it offered. He imagined that any booze at this time would hit him pretty hard since he had abstained for a week. He rethought his earlier statement that sobriety would be easy as long as he could see Justin at meetings might not be the case.

 

Brian ate a little of Debbie's lasagna, spending most of the evening talking with Gus. He'd been spending more time with him as he got older and he really found that he enjoyed the interactions. He would never have pegged himself for a father figure, but at 10 Gus still loved to hang out with his Dad. He frequently told Brian that his moms were boring and always had stuff to do and that he would rather spend time with Brian. They did a lot of things together; played video games, went to museums and Brian taught him how to play soccer. Brian loved going to soccer games with his son and was really proud of his ability to play the game. They spent a lot of time working on Gus's skills and Gus was thrilled that this was something that only he and his father did together. His moms would occasionally come to his games, but he could always count on his dad to come to watch him play.

 

When dessert was served, Brian went outside to smoke. He'd never been a sweet eater and no one ever expected him to eat dessert. He walked out to the backyard and lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke into his lungs. He always said it calmed him. He really couldn't understand why smoking was not allowed at AA meetings, but there were always large signs forbidding smoking. As he thought of AA, his mind turned again to Justin. He wondered what he was doing and wondered how he spent the remainder of his Sunday. Brian had no idea what Justin did when he wasn't attending meetings, but then again, Justin had no idea what Brian did either. He guessed that really wasn't an issue since no one was supposed to know your last name. He finished his cigarette and returned to the family gathering. He was glad that Michael had not followed him to "chat" with him. He didn't think he could really deal with him right now. 

 

The family talked and visited for another half hour and then everyone said their goodbyes, grabbing coats, toys or whatever they had brought to Debbie's.

 

As Brian was walking out the door, Michael yelled out, "Hey Brian, you joining us at Woody's?"

 

Brian stopped dead in his tracks. He knew he couldn't go to Woody's. Not yet. He wasn't ready. But on the other hand, he really did not relish the idea of another night staring at the four walls of his loft.

 

"No, I've got a big presentation tomorrow. I need to head home to work on it," Brian said, knowing that this excuse would be acceptable. Eventually, they would find out his dirty little secret, but not today. Today, he was still Brian Kinney, stud of Liberty Avenue, the man who fucked and drank his way through life. 

 

"Okay," he said, accepting Brian's excuse. "See you Ma," Michael said as he walked toward the Avenue.

 

"Bri, you need any help on that presentation?" Ted said softly, keeping his voice low so no one would hear him.

 

Brian was caught off guard at Ted's question but recognized it for what it was. "Sure," Brian said, appreciating the offer. "It's the Kinko copy account. You helped me with it in the fall."

 

"I remember that one. I'll come by in an hour or so. That work for you?"

 

"Sounds good. I've got to swing by the store and get some batteries. The damn smoke alarm started beeping just as I was leaving this afternoon." Brian got in his car and went to the store to pick up batteries for the smoke alarm, that much of his conversation was true. He did not have the campaign to work on and he was pretty certain Ted knew that. He was thankful that Ted found a way to support him without spilling his secret.

 

After getting home, installing the batteries and changing into sweats, Brian was really at a loss for what to do with his time. He couldn't remember there ever being a time where he had endless hours of free time at his disposal where he wasn't at the bars or baths. His life usually consisted of going to work, going to the gym, and going to Woody's or Babylon. Sometimes he went to the baths for a change of pace, but that was when he had a specific itch. Of course, in the last several years more of his free time was spent with Gus, but he couldn't expect to have Gus become his go-to activity every time he wanted a drink.

 

Before he could ponder the idea any longer, the buzzer to his building went off. Pressing the button in his loft, he let Ted into the building. He was surprised to realize that he was relieved that Ted had offered to come by. 

 

Brian opened the door just as Ted opened the gate to the elevator. Brian nodded his head slightly, inviting him in. In his hands were a selection of movies, a plastic bag from the Big Q and a carry case with two cups of coffee. He placed the items on Brian's island, glad that he didn't end up dropping anything on his way up. Luckily he could drape the handles of the bags on his forearm so it left his hands mostly free.

 

"I come bearing gifts," Ted said. 

 

"What the hell did you buy at the Big Q that I could possibly want? The crap emporium has absolutely nothing of value, even their toilet paper is crap." Brian grabbed the coffee, seeing the steam coming out of the top. He placed it on the counter and sat on the bar stool as he waited for Ted to explain.

 

Ted smiled at Brian's levity but didn't allow it to faze him. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out several boxes and said, "These are Fidget Spinners." Ted took out four Fidget Spinners and placed them on the counter."

 

"What the fuck is a Fidget Spinner and why in the world would I want one? It looks like something a 6-year-old would play with." Brian grabbed several packets of sugar from his sugar bowl on the counter and opened them, emptying them in his coffee. It was still steaming, a little too hot to drink so he let it sit.

 

"Studies have shown that they calm anxiety, stress and help with focus. When you are feeling stressed, instead of reaching for a drink, you can reach for one of these. They are everywhere and no one will look at you oddly when you start playing with it," Ted explained. "I have several items on my desk that I occasionally pick up and I know you have never thought twice about them." Ted grabbed his coffee from the to go box and he also placed a packet of sugar in it and replaced the lid until it cooled to drinking temperature.

 

Brian looked at his CFO under a new light. He always knew Ted was brilliant when it came to numbers, but it seemed he had other talents as well. "You use these?"

 

"Sometimes. When I'm feeling stressed or like I want to use, sometimes I talk to Blake but other times I call my sponsor." Ted took out his white chip from his pocket, showing it to Brian. "I carry this every day. I flip it in my pocket and it is a constant reminder of where I was and where I am now." He placed the chip back in his pocket and looked at his friend. "Bri, you've got your own white chip. Remember how you got it and why. Carry it in your pocket and it may help. There is no magic bullet in maintaining sobriety, just tenacity and the will to change your life. Unfortunately, willpower is not the solution. If it were just up to will power there would be no need for treatment programs and AA meetings. It's a journey."

 

"Ted, you sound like you are recruiting me for some weird new age cult. It's a journey. It's a lifestyle. Really, do you expect me to believe that this sobriety thing is mystical." Brian picked up his coffee, taking a tentative sip and smiled. "Not bad. Guess all those years of listening to me order coffee at the office paid off."

 

Ted opened one of the packages and laid it on the counter, hoping Brian would pick it up and play with it. "Bri, if sobriety were that easy, why would there be a need for 15 different AA meetings every morning before the workday? And there are easily 15 meetings during work as well as that many after work. Multiply that number by every major city in the world and that is a huge number. It's tough and having someplace safe to go is a huge piece of being successful."

 

Brian picked up the gadget and fidgeted with it as he talked. "You telling me that I got to recreate myself?"

 

"No. I'm not telling you anything. All I'm saying is that you need to accept that AA is work, as much work as we do at the office. Its different work, it's working on your life and how you want to live it." Ted had Brian's attention, they weren't at work and Brian had asked him to come to his home. In Brian's way, he was asking for help.

 

"Honestly, Bri, what were your plans when you left Deb's? I know we don't have a presentation tomorrow, but Michael knows you often bow out due to work and he accepted your excuse. Normally you would go to Woody's, play pool, have a few beers, pick up several tricks, enjoy a few blow jobs and come home. This is what you do most evenings. If you are going to remain sober, you are going to have to come up with activities that will occupy your time."

 

Brian realized his coffee was probably getting cold, so he took another drink, happy that it was still warm. He listened to Ted, accepting that Ted did make a valid point, but he was at a loss to what he wanted his life to be like.

 

"Brian you don't need to make any changes today, tomorrow or next week. One of the basic tenets of the 12 steps is that we take each day one at a time. If you try and make too many changes at once, you won't be successful. Change has to happen gradually."

 

"Enough lecture for one night. Let's see what you brought in the way of movies," Brian said. Brian was done talking, at least for the time being. He knew that Ted had some valid points, but he didn't have a clue as to what he wanted out of life so he couldn't begin to fathom where to go next.

 

Brian chose The Escape of Prisoner 614. They sat on the couch and watched the movie, not talking about sobriety or fidget toys. After the movie, Ted said, " I'm getting tired and I better not oversleep. My boss is a stickler for being on time to work."

 

Brian smiled and said, tongue in cheek, "Well I guess you better go home and get to bed so you can be on time to work. I'd hate to be the cause of you getting in trouble at work."

 

"Night, Bri," Ted said as he walked toward the door.

 

Brian opened the sliding door and let his friend out. "Thanks for the fidget things and the movies."

 

Brian closed the door behind Ted and got ready for bed.

 

TBC


	5. Chapter 5 - A New Monday Dawns

Monday morning dawned and Brian was up at 6:00. He normally slept in till 7:00 or 7:30, but since he had gone to bed early, he woke way before his alarm went off. He did a quick body check and realized he actually felt good. For the last week, he had felt like he had the residual of a flu bug and accredited the malaise to some illness going around the office. With over 100 people working for him, there always seemed to be someone out sick. He had not attributed his run-down feeling to alcohol withdrawal, but maybe he should have. Since it was early, he decided to check his emails and get an early start on the day. After an hour, he showered and got ready for work.

 

Arriving at work, he went to his office to begin his day. His day was fine until 3:00, when Cynthia came into his office, barely knocking before she entered.

 

"Boss, we've got a problem,"

 

"What?" he said, knowing that she had a good head on her shoulders and was an excellent business person. If she said it was a problem, then it most likely was big.

 

"The photographer for the shoot this afternoon was taken to the hospital for appendicitis and won't be able to meet the deadline. I've called all over and no one is available until at least Wednesday. We've got to have the proofs by Wednesday so our art department has time to put them in the mock-up boards. Your meeting with Asus is Friday and it has already been postponed once."

 

Brian listened to the scenario and could feel a massive headache coming on. Shit, Shit, Shit. "When was the shoot scheduled for?"

 

"This evening at 6:00."

 

"Okay. Brian calculated in his head the amount of time he would need, but realized he might not be able to make the meeting tonight. He didn't like that option, but couldn't mess up his business due to his desire to hit some meeting. "I'll shoot the ad. Where and who will be there? They better be ready. I have things to do."

 

"Great. It's by the river, one of the warehouses. I'll get you the address."

 

As the day went on, it seemed to Brian that there was a conspiracy to throw everything that could go bad at him at once. The 4:00 meeting with Logan Steakhouses had not gone well. The son who usually attended and liked Brian's forward thinking had a falling out with his father and had, at least for now, left the company. His father was old school and wanted pictures of the interior of the steakhouse with big pictures of meat, not the ads with hip 20 and 30 somethings having a great time at the establishment. He did not sign the contract.

 

After that, he received a phone call from Lindsay that Gus had a birthday party to attend on Saturday and would not be able to come to visit Brian as planned. She offered to bring him Saturday night, but Brian did not readily agree. In the back of his mind, he wanted to be available to attend the meeting where he met Justin. If the photo shoot went long, he might not be able to attend the AA meeting tonight. Saturday was a long way off, but he wanted another chance at that bubble butt. Something about Justin made it impossible to not think of the man. He'd never had this feeling before, but then he admitted he'd usually only thought of men as potential fucks. He wanted to fuck Justin and discarded his desire to see him again as anything but wanting to stick his cock in his bubble butt.

 

Brian was in a foul mood when he went to the photo shoot, but he was the ultimate professional and got some excellent shots for his boards. Since he designed the boards, he knew exactly what he wanted and unlike the normal scenario, he didn't have to rely on the photographer to shoot from a list of potential poses and then have the art department try to fill his vision from the proofs. He managed to complete the shoot by 7:30. He put away his equipment and drove across town to the meeting, hoping that Justin was there. He wondered when he'd become a lesbian, hoping to see somebody, but struck the thought as he still saw Justin as a conquest. 

 

He'd had a for shit day, first, the photographer got fucking sick and then Gus had a stupid birthday party and wouldn't be able to spend Saturday with him. He'd been counting on Gus' company to give him something to do. Then he had to do the photo shoot himself. He really wanted a drink and a fuck, not necessarily in that order. He moved his hand to automatically shift the car when he came close to a stop light and reality hit him yet again. He was in a fucking rental since he wrapped his beloved jeep around a tree. He couldn't go to Woody's and enjoy his favorite form of pain management. Fuck. He looked at the dashboard and saw that it was already 8:15 and he was still 10 minutes out. He banged his hand on the steering wheel.

 

Finally arriving at the meeting, he found the room and quickly scanned the participants for the familiar blond. Locating him he made his way over to Justin and saw that there was an empty chair a few seats down. Hearing the noise from Brian's entrance, Justin looked his way and smiled when he saw the man. He almost thought that Brian wasn't coming since it was so late, but he was glad that he had come. Maybe tonight, he'd get the man to stay for a cup of coffee.

 

Brian settled in his seat, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to tune into the speaker. He'd missed the first part of the meeting, but a new person had come to the podium and was starting to talk. 

 

"Tonight I want to talk to you about anger. I used to be angry all the time, it was my reason to drink. Or so I thought. I was angry at my boss, so I had a few after I got off work. I was angry at my wife, so I stepped out on our marriage and had a few rather than talk to her about things. I was angry at my family, thinking that their lives were better than mine and resenting their success. Of course, after interacting with them, I justified having a few drinks to calm myself. Soon I was drinking all the time. 

 

One day I got called into the boss's office and he told me to get sober or I would lose my job. I was so angry, I left and you guessed it, I had a drink. Well, it was more than one drink, it was so many I stopped counting. I went home to tell my wife about my crappy boss and she told me the same thing. Get sober or I leave. I grabbed the bottle from the liquor cabinet and drank half of it before I passed out. When I woke up, I walked to the kitchen and there was a note on the table.

 

"Get help!!" That was my wake up call. I wanted to be angry, but I just didn't have the energy to be angry. Everybody was out to get me. Then I sat down and started thinking about my anger and realized that anger was just my excuse to drink. If I wanted to get my life back, I needed to figure things out. I came here and listened to the stories. I read books and I found a sponsor. Drinking was the problem, anger was the justification. I'm here to share with all of you that in order to conquer those demons, you have to figure out why you drink. Thankfully, through the support of everyone here, I did and I'm happy to say that today my wife moved back in."

 

Everyone in the audience clapped and the man continued to share his success and talk for another five minutes. As Brian listened, he recalled Ted's conversation from the other night. Sobriety was hard.

 

When he was finished, he sat down and someone else got up to share their story. Brian listened, trying to tell himself that their problems were not the same as his. He drank as part of the conquest. It was different.

The meeting adjourned and people flowed toward the back as was customary. Justin followed Brian back to the coffee urn and waited in line for his turn. He grabbed styrofoam cup and put 3 packets of sugar in it before filling it with coffee. He turned to Justin, "So how is this coffee compared to the other meetings?" He couldn't believe he was making small talk with this man again and that he'd rushed here from clear across town to make this meeting. He was truly losing his sanity.

 

"Not bad, but the coffee at last night's meeting was better. I don't come to this one very often, maybe it got better." Justin fixed his own cup and took a tentative drink. "Not bad, but there is a great cafe down the street."

 

Brian smiled and nodded his head thinking that tonight maybe he could finally get the man into his bed. Finishing his coffee, he threw the empty cup in the trash. "Lead on, MacDuff."

 

Justin walked to the front of the building and Brian followed him. "It's just a block over. Want to walk or drive?"

 

"Let's walk. Not too cold tonight. Besides, I've been inside all day. The fresh air will be welcome,' Brian said, surprised at the words as soon as he said them. 

 

They quickly found the cafe and sat down. The waitress came up to them a few minutes later and took their order. Brian hadn't eaten so he ordered a turkey sandwich. Justin ordered dessert and a coffee.

 

"I watched you as the speaker was talking about anger. You seemed to be thinking about what he said. Did he hit a nerve?" Justin asked. He found this man interesting but wasn't sure why. He definitely had poise, but there was a vulnerability about him and he just wanted to help him.

 

"I don't drink because I'm angry," Brian said. The waitress brought their coffee and this gave Brian an excuse to stop talking as he prepared his coffee with sugar.

 

"Do you really believe in the 12 Steps?" Brian asked. 

 

"I do. It's helped me and millions of others gain sobriety."

 

Brian nodded his head, willing to listen.

 

"The first step is accepting that you have a problem. Coming to a meeting gets you to the first step. If you didn't think you had a problem, then you wouldn't keep coming back."

 

"Okay, I admitted that I have a problem. My Jeep is proof that I definitely shouldn't have been driving that day. And if I am honest, which is why I finally went to a meeting, I shouldn't have been driving on many other occasions as well."

 

‘You got Step one. Step two: Understand that a power greater than ourselves could help get our lives back."

 

"I don't fucking believe in G-d. If I have to do that, I might as well leave now," Brian said, his voice raising when he heard the second step. No way was he going to go down the road of Joan Kinney. Joan used her belief in G-d as a reason for everything, including condemning his lifestyle and telling him he was going to hell. He was perfectly fine with his lifestyle and who cared if he went to hell, he'd be dead anyway. 

 

"Calm down," Justin said. "No one said you had to believe in G-d to be in AA. The idea is that you accept that you aren't able to do this alone. Remember, I mentioned being your sponsor Saturday? And tonight, the guy talking about his anger said that his sponsor helped him a lot," Justin said, starting to reach out his hand to Brian but deciding against it.

 

"What the hell does a sponsor do?" Brian's body was still on high alert, charged from the mention that he needed G-d in order to get sober. He was ready to leave and say ‘screw this' to this whole discussion.

 

"A sponsor can do a lot or a little. The person is your confidante, someone you can share your concerns with. A sponsor is someone who is willing to be there for you, day or night if you need help. A lot of people are not comfortable talking in front of the group, so they talk with their sponsor. The sponsor helps them move through the steps of the program."

 

"So if you were my sponsor, you'd be willing to take my call night or day?"

Brian smiled at the thought of having access to that bubble butt anytime he wanted.

 

"If you needed support, sure I'd be there. Everybody has bad days and wants to drink, the sponsor can hopefully support the person so that doesn't happen. And if it does, then the sponsor can still support that person to start over."

 

The waitress brought Brian his sandwich and Justin's raspberry torte. Brian hadn't realized how hungry he was and bit into the sandwich, taking several bites before he said anything else. He didn't often think about food or rather what he wanted to eat. His eating habits were pretty regimented, but he did occasionally crave a good steak. Since he ate at the Liberty diner for many of his meals, his palate was not too discerning. No one could really mess up a turkey sandwich and this one was at least on fresh bread and had a distinct smoked taste. It didn't taste stale or slimy, so he ate a few more bites. Brian took several deep breaths and tried to concentrate on eating rather than the jumble of emotions running through his head.

 

He knew he needed help; the last few days had shown him that. Without Ted and Blake, he would have gone crazy. He knew it wasn't a good idea to rely on Ted and Blake; there were too many secrets that he didn't want them to know about. The only thing Brian knew about Justin was that he liked coffee and desserts and had offered to help him. Brian Kinney did not accept help easily, but maybe this time would be an exception. Of course, he really didn't think he would need to disclose a lot to this sponsor guy. 

 

"Ok, you can be my sponsor. My friend, Ted said I should get one. He is a recovering crystal addict and his partner is a drug counselor. They both said they'd support me but were too close to be a sponsor." Brian found himself sharing information that he normally would not have dreamed of talking about with anyone and wondered what magical spell this young man had cast on him to agree to this very unKinney like behavior.

 

"Good. I want to help you. I know my sponsor helped me so much. I wouldn't be here without her." Justin lay his hand palm up. "Give me your phone and I'll put my number in it. You can reach me any time."

 

Brian handed his phone over, hoping that this was the right thing to do. He was beginning to realize that there was more to this stuff than just attending meetings, but he was still on the fence about the sponsor thing. They ate their food, neither saying much until they were finished. "So where do we start?" Brian said, hoping to tear off the bandaid, so to speak, without too much pain.

 

"That is up to you. This isn't a class where there is a syllabus and unfortunately or fortunately depending on your viewpoint, there is not a specific road map to follow. Everybody works their program differently," Justin said as he waved to the waitress to refill his coffee. 

 

Brian did not like his answer. He was not one to meander on a path; he was always the one who investigated the shortest and quickest way to meet his destination. He wanted to be sober so he wouldn't hurt Gus. Wasn't that enough? He thought about the three meetings he'd attended and reviewed those in his head but didn't see any pattern there either.

 

"Some help would be appreciated here. I've got no road map to even see my options," Brian said as he added three sugars to the freshly refilled cup of coffee.

 

Justin drank some of his coffee, trying to formulate his response. He knew Brian was skittish, most people were when the first started meetings. 

 

"Why did you come to a meeting?"

 

"I wrapped my fucking car around a tree. I said that at the meeting. I still can't believe I got up there in front of a bunch of complete strangers and said all that," Brian said, thinking about that first meeting as if it were a dream. 

 

"Sometimes the anonymity of a meeting encourages people to say things they normally wouldn't," Justin said, remembering his turning point. He'd been a mess. He'd had an argument with his agent about his drinking at the reception of his last show. He'd gone to his studio to paint, but instead, he started drinking to forget his pain. He started painting but didn't look at the canvas he was painting, just threw paint on the nearest surface. When he was done with that one, he took another canvas and did the same to it. When he was finished he had repainted 6 canvases, almost a month's worth of work. He passed out after drinking two bottles of bourbon and when he woke, he saw the disaster of his studio and a month's worth of work ruined. He was furious and went through his studio throwing things to the ground, clearing surfaces with wide sweeps of his hand until there was nothing untouched. He pounded his fist on the walls until they were bruised and slightly swollen and cried tears of frustration. When he had stopped crying, he grabbed his keys, walked out the door and locked the studio. He went to a meeting that night. He'd hit rock bottom.

 

"That part I know, but what about wrapping your car around a tree made you come to a meeting?" Justin asked, pushing him a little more. He remembered his sponsor, always pushing for a little more in the beginning. He understood that minimalist answers weren't going to work, a person needed to delve deep into their soul to start to work the program. 

 

Brian looked at Justin and saw no malice, no ulterior motive in asking. He knew if one of "his family" would have asked they would have been judgmental, castigating him for being reckless. This man had no preconceived ideas about who Brian Kinney was and was just trying to help Brian with his sobriety. It was such a novel idea, somebody helping Brian. He was used to helping himself or others, not the other way around. 

 

"My son. I did it for Gus."

 

"You did it for Gus," Justin said, repeating the information, hoping Brian would elaborate without him questioning him more. He didn't want Brian to feel like he was on trial and had to defend himself. 

 

"I was afraid that I could have had Gus with me and he might get hurt. I couldn't do that. I need to keep him safe."

 

"You drink when you have Gus with you?" Justin asked the question with no malice or accusation. It was no different than when he ordered coffee from the waitress earlier this evening.

 

"I have. Nothing big, maybe a few beers. But this scared me. I'd had a few beers before taking him home that day. We had gone to a soccer game; he plays goalie. I had a few beers while I watched the game. A couple of beers didn't make me drunk so I thought everything was fine. I dropped him off after the game, but then on my way home I went to the bar and drank some more. I still didn't think I was drunk. I drink," Brian said and then corrected himself. "I used to drink all the time. I don't get drunk so I didn't think anything about getting in the car and driving home. But, I was wrong. I lost control and wrapped the car around a tree. After the paramedics checked me out and gave me clearance, I looked at my car. It scared me. I walked away but the passenger side of the car was crushed where I hit the tree. Gus could have been severely hurt, maybe even killed had he been with me. The cops came and did a test, I passed, barely. Guess it had been long enough after I drank the beers that I didn't register high enough. As I said, it was only a few beers. But I could care less about a ticket. A ticket can be paid for and sure my insurance would go up, but I could afford that. I couldn't change anything if something happened to Gus. I knew I needed help. This happened on Sunday of last week. It scared me enough that I didn't drink for about a week, but then came Saturday. I was going stir crazy and I knew I needed something, so I looked up AA and the rest is history."

 

"It's called rock bottom. You hit a point where your drinking was impacting your life in a way you couldn't accept," Justin said, giving Brian's experience a name. 

 

"That sounds appropriate. I never thought I really had a problem, but when I had the accident, it was a wake-up call." Brian had long ago finished his sandwich and second cup of coffee. Looking around he saw that they were the only ones left in the coffee shop. "Looks like we're the only ones here. I think I've had enough talk for tonight, why don't you come home with me and we can continue this in a more relaxed way." Brian looked at Justin, the lust evident in his gaze. His notion of continuing the conversation was obviously not to talk about sobriety.

 

Justin shook his head no. " Brian I told you Saturday. I'm not going to have sex with you. You're not supposed to start any new relationships this early in recovery."

 

"Who says anything about a relationship. I sure didn't. Sex is sex."

 

"No. If you want sex, you will have to get it from someone else," Justin insisted, brooking no argument.

 

Brian did not like being turned down. In fact, it was not something he was used to. Every gay man he'd ever met wanted a fuck from Brian Kinney. He didn't like Justin's answer, but he wasn't quitting. For once, he accepted that he needed Justin's help more than he wanted his body. He vowed that one day, he'd have both.


	6. The Beginning

They paid the bill and walked out of the coffee shop together. They walked toward the building where the AA meeting was held. "So do you go to meetings every day?" Brian asked. As Brian walked beside Justin, he surreptitiously glanced at the beautiful man and inhaled his unique scent.

 

"Pretty much. In the beginning, sometimes I hit two meetings a day; one in the morning and one in the evening. It gave me structure. You know, having somewhere to go."

 

"So that is common?"

 

"Finding something to do?" Justin asked for clarification and looked at Brian.

 

Brian nodded. "Yeah. According to my friend, Ted, I'm going to have to figure out a whole new life. Not sure how I feel about that."

 

"Well, that may be a little extreme. I mean, sometimes you can't really change your whole life, but change is a part of sobriety."

 

They reached their cars and Brian said, "So where do I find you for tomorrow's meeting? If I'm going to do this, I guess I need to go to a meeting." Brian smirked as he looked at Justin.

 

Justin took out the paper from his pocket and looked at the meeting schedule. "What about the one on Washington St. It's in the Parc Bldg."

 

"You go all over, don't you?" Brian said as he mentally calculated the location of the meeting."

 

"Well, we don't want to go to a closed meeting and I know you said you like a later time. Later works for me, so I chose that one. Really, it doesn't matter. You will eventually choose a home group and go there most of the time. But since most groups only meet once a week, that isn't enough for folks starting out."

 

"Okay. Tomorrow at 8:00 at the Parc Bldg. I'll see you there." Brian got in his car and watched Justin get in his car. He thought about following him but decided against it. He decided he was tired and would just go home.

 

When he got home, he showered and turned on the tv, catching a rerun of a James Dean movie. He watched it for a while and then went to bed. 

 

Brian went to Kinnetik the following day and managed to get through another day without yelling too much at the art department and not threatening to fire Ted more than twice. He left work, went to the gym and then drove to the AA meeting. This was his fourth meeting in four days. He hadn't gone to Babylon in over two weeks and he'd only gotten his dick sucked once. He was beginning to question the whole sobriety thing if he was going to have to give up sex. 

 

He walked into the building and quickly located the meeting. Looking around, he spotted Justin and sat next to him. The meeting wasn't supposed to start for another 15 minutes so they had a few minutes to talk. 

 

"Hi. How was your day?" Justin asked.

 

"Okay. The art department didn't screw up the boards too much. I swear I wonder if all artists are just so full of themselves that they don't care to listen."

 

"So you work with a lot of artists?" Justin was intrigued. While anonymity was the backbone of AA, the reality of anonymity was somewhat vague. People in AA often socialized outside of the group and frequently formed a new social circle for recovering addicts. Last names in the group were not used, but if people socialized outside of the group, they soon learned that information. The key was that someone could be anonymous if they wanted to be. Attendees were never supposed to tell that they knew the person from AA. The people who attended the groups came from all walks of life; some were professionals like doctors and lawyers while others were students, homemakers, and some didn't work at all. The common thing they all shared was that they all had an addiction to alcohol and wanted to overcome that addiction. They all realized that they needed a village to do this and that they couldn't do it alone. 

 

"Yes. I'm in advertising," Brian said, not wanting to share his connection with Kinneitk. He wasn't really sure why he didn't want to say anything about Kinnetik to Justin, but it just didn't feel right. Everyone on Liberty Avenue knew who Brian Kinney was, but he'd chosen to attend AA far away from that comfort zone. He wanted to do this without his friends and the queer grape vine knowing. 

 

Justin took the information and filed it away. Brian didn't appear to want to elaborate so he wasn't going to push. After all, he'd only known the man for less than a week. If Brian really wanted to work on his sobriety, he knew he would be spending a lot of time talking to him in the future. There was plenty of time to get to know what made this man tick. Since Brian didn't ask him what he did for a living, Justin didn't volunteer any information either.

 

"How's the coffee here?" Brian asked, comfortable with that innocuous question.

 

"Not sure, I don't think I've ever attended this meeting. I like this part of town and there is a really good coffee shop a few blocks south of here. If the coffee is really terrible, we could go there after the meeting."

 

Brian nodded, not wanting to give away how the prospect of coffee with Justin was definitely on the list of things he wanted to indulge in. He was trading going to Babylon for coffee tastings. How lame was that? Ted said he had to reinvent himself, but he would have never thought this is what he had in mind. A banal conversation about where to go for coffee while trying to figure out how to convince the gorgeous man next to him to suck his cock. There was something wrong with the universe when Brian Kinney had to convince a man to sleep with him. Of course, there was something wrong with the universe as Brian was sitting here contemplating sex rather than having it. 

 

Brian stopped thinking about how pathetic his life had become and tuned into the meeting. He really wanted to get Justin into bed, but it appeared that the only way to do that was to be clean for a while. He had no idea what a while meant, but he'd made up his mind that wrapping his car around a tree was not the life he wanted. If that meant attending a bunch of dumb meetings then Brian would do that. Brian Kinney did not fail; he always succeeded. 

 

Today's topic was about anger and how it impacted people. Brian listened and found himself identifying with a lot of the information. He was angry and had been for a long time. He was angry at his dad for using him as a punching bag. His dad was angry and used Brian to channel that anger rather than deal with it. He was angry at his mother for not protecting him from his father and he was angry at both of them for the neglect and lack of caring in the home. Brian had not felt accepted until his teen years when he started hanging with Mikey. Debbie had taken him in and loved him. He knew he was screwed up but he never really put a finger on what the long-term anger was doing to him.

 

Justin watched Brian during the meeting. He saw the man nod his head throughout the discussion and knew that it hit home for him. Anger was a popular topic for AA meetings as anger was a strong emotion. Many people didn't know how to deal with their anger and as a result used drinking to handle the difficult emotion. Justin knew first hand how he dealt with anger, flashing back to his ruined studio a year ago. He too had a lot of anger.

 

When the meeting was over, Justin looked at Brian, "Want to try the coffee?" he asked. 

 

"No. I think not. Let's try that coffee place you were talking about. I think all the AA meetings must get their coffee from the same boring place."

 

Justin stood up and Brian followed him out of the building. They stopped at the curb. "It's about two miles down the road. Why don't we drive? You want to follow me or I could drive?"

 

Brian thought for about 15 seconds and said, "I'll drive myself." He didn't really want to be beholden to Justin to take him back to his car and he still was a little leery of this whole sponsor thing. This way he could leave whenever he wanted.

 

"Sure. My car is over in the lot across the street. Where is your car?" Justin asked, waving his hand in the direction of the parking lot.

 

"Same lot. There is a lack of good parking at most of these places. You would think that they would try to have meetings where there was enough parking," Brian said lamenting the issue.

 

"Most meetings don't pay for the meeting space. You may not have noticed, but they are in a lot of churches and community centers. The church seems to recognize that there are a lot of alcoholics," Justin said as he walked toward his car. 

 

"That's the only thing they recognize," Brian said under his breath as he thought about his mother's overly zealous attendance at church to the extent that she neglected to keep him safe. 

 

Justin didn't respond. He decided that if Brian wanted him to know the information, he would have said it out loud. He filed this information in an ever larger compartment in his brain, labeled Brian. "Here's my car. Where's yours? You can follow me."

 

Brian pointed to his Toyota a few aisles over. "That horrible blue thing is my car for now. I really need to settle with the insurance company so that I can get me a new one. Driving that suburban box is ruining my reputation," Brian said, somewhat tongue in cheek. He realized just as he said the words that his reputation was most likely the talk of speculation since he hadn't been seen in Liberty Avenue's fine establishments for 10 days. Unless he was away on business or seriously sick, this behavior was unheard of. He'd been getting his cock sucked on a regular basis since he was 17 and could get into the hallowed halls of Babylon and Woody's. He was sure that the gay grapevine was more than alive and well and speculating what had happened to the "Stud of Liberty Avenue".

 

Brian walked to his car, got in and spotted Justin's ugly SUV. Pulling up behind it, he followed him a few miles to the coffee shop. This one was a small diner and it reminded him of the Liberty Diner but there were lots of male/female couples here. As he sat down at a booth, he felt a small wave of recognition come over him. If he closed his eyes and didn't focus too much on the voices, he would think he was in the Liberty Diner and that Debbie would be coming to their table with her garrish red wig, T-shirt with some thinly veiled sexual innuendo logo, and her ever ready pad. A small smile came over him when he thought of that place, realizing that he thought of it as home. 

 

He reached for the menu and started looking at it, knowing before he even perused it, he would only be ordering a latte. It was too late for carbs and he'd been held up at the office and didn't get to the gym. Justin watched him wondering what got the slight small from his lips but didn't push. He'd only known him for a few days and he already had him pegged as a very private man. Justin wondered how he was going to help him if he didn't start to share his struggles. The waitress came and took their order.

 

"The topic tonight hit home. I hit bottom when I was so angry that I destroyed my studio and several months worth of work in less than an hour. When I went into the studio the next day, I realized I needed help," Justin said, hoping to get Brian talking about the topic. He's seen Brian appear to pay attention to the topic, much more so than in previous meetings.

 

Brian looked at the beautiful blond sitting across from him and realized he was familiar. He'd seen that face. "Shit! Your an artist." Looking at the gorgeous man sitting across from him he finally put the puzzle pieces together. Brian studied the man across from him and it suddenly really hit him why it was called AA. Anonymous. 

 

"Guilty as charged. But here we are just Brian and Justin," Justin said, hoping to get the conversation back to Brian and away from his livelihood.

 

"So you destroyed your studio. That must have sucked. Were you drunk?" Brian recognized Justin's defection, not wanting to discuss his history and gave him a silent touche. This man had balls, bringing up his failings and struggles but still trying to help Brian.

 

"Yes. I'd had a show that night and enjoyed one too many free cocktails. Truth be told it was more like a tray of free cocktails. Evidently, I was ignoring my patrons and generally making an ass of myself. I also told the owner of the gallery some rather unflattering things about his event. That was when my agent, pulled me aside and reamed me about my behavior. He threatened to stop representing me if I didn't shape up. I was so pissed. No one had a right to tell me what to do, etc, etc. I went to my studio and pretty much ransacked it. In my very drunken state I decided that I could do what I wanted and if there was no work then he wouldn't have to make that choice." Justin shook his head at the retelling of his story. "Of course, he was right. I was an ass and if I didn't stop getting drunk and being rude to my patrons and gallery owners, I was going to be blackballed. Basically, a has been before I'd even really had a chance."

 

Brian listened to the tale, recognizing the kindred anger. He questioned why he even asked, it was so unlike him, but this man sitting across from him had a habit of getting Brian to talk about things that he normally kept very private. He jokingly thought that their was some magical spell that Justin had cast upon him, but decided not to question the situation too deeply.

 

"I've never destroyed a studio, but I imagine wrapping a car around a tree counts just as much," Brian said, some tongue in cheek filling the remark.

 

"This isn't a pissing contest of who has the best anger display," Justin said. The waitress brought their order and they drank their coffee in silence for a bit. "So you were angry that night?"

 

Brian thought back to the night, remembering Lindsay's words as if they were spoken an hour ago rather than 10 days ago. "Yeah, I was angry. Lindsay started the conversation about me drinking when I had Gus. She was being holier than thou telling me that this was irresponsible and bad parenting, ad nauseum. Then she moved to her ever-present talk. My way of life was a bad influence on Gus. I was setting a bad example for him by picking up random tricks all the time and never settling down. What was he going to think when he was older. Nag, nag, nag. I left there and went to Babylon. You know the rest." 

 

"So you wrapped your car around the tree when you left Babylon?"

 

"Yeah. I was still really pissed. My son is really important to me. I don't want to raise him, that's their job, but I want him to know who I am. But I lost control and wrapped my car around a tree on my way home. Scared the shit out of me. I've made that drive a zillion times and I know I've been drunk and or high many of those. My anger got the best of me. While I don't think she has any right trying to dictate my sex life, maybe she is right about me drinking when I have Gus in the car."

 

Justin had finished his dessert and coffee and Brian had waved to the waitress for their check. The conversation was getting a little too close to home and Brian wasn't sure he was ready to explore those areas. 

 

"Brian," Justin began, wanting to keep him at the table for a little longer. "It bothers you that she might be right," he asked, hoping that he was reading him right.

 

"I guess. I can just hear her WASP voice if she knew I was attending AA. "Oh Brian, I'm so glad that you are going to AA. I was really worried about you and I'm so proud of you. Let me know if you need anything.' "The bitch would pretend to be all positive about it, but in the back of her mind she would be plotting how to use my drinking as another way to keep Gus from spending time with me."

 

"Sounds like she wants you to get help?" Justin asked, not sure he really understood the comments.

 

"Lindsay is only interested in what is good for Lindsay. She has her little vision of what life should be like for me and her ideal would be that the three of us, her, Gus and I would settle down and be the little family. Pushing me to settle down is about her fantasy of her being my wife. Of course, that is priceless as she is a lesbian and I like cock."

 

Justin listened and as long as Brian was willing to talk, he remained quiet.

 

"When she tells me I shouldn't drink when I have Gus with me, that is just her way to exert control over my life. She knows that I want to spend time with Gus and she will use any little infraction of her pretend rules to deny me access to my own kid. Lots of parents drink at soccer games; I've seen them. They sell beer at the concession stand. Who do you think drinks that beer? Parents are drinking it and then getting in a car with their kids to drive them home. I can fucking drink a few beers without her being all sanctimonious." Brian's voice was rising as he shared more about that night with Justin. 

 

Justin knew he had hit really shaky ground. Brian was escalating and if he didn't calm him down, he would head toward his normal coping mechanism, drink. If that happened, Justin would have to start from the beginning and Brian would most likely start to question his ability to remain sober.

 

"You're really angry at her," Justin said in a soft voice, trying to soothe Brian.

 

"I think she is manipulative and I just want to see my kid. She doesn't have a fucking right to tell me how to live my life."

 

"Gus, his name is Gus right?"

 

"Yeah," Brian said, still filled with the anger at Lindsay for trying to keep his son from him.

 

"You said you were getting sober for him. You didn't want to possibly hurt him if you were drinking and driving," Justin said, trying to get the conversation back on more neutral ground.

 

"Sure," Brian said, thinking how guilty and heartbroken he would feel if he had hurt Gus.

 

"So, let's focus on Gus."

 

Brian heard the words and took a few calming breaths. He was still angry, but he knew Justin was right. 

 

"I couldn't live with myself if I hurt him."

 

"Okay. So you are not drinking in order to keep him safe," Justin kept repeating the idea hoping to refocus Brian's mind on sobriety, not his kid's mother."

 

"Yeah. Yeah. Enough with the psychobabble for today. I get it. I'm not going to drink so I don't inadvertently hurt Gus. I gotta go," Brian said as he started to get up and grab his check.

 

Justin stood up too, but grabbed the paper out of his back pocket, laying it on the table. "Tomorrow.... " The inherent question was literally on the table. Where would they go to a meeting? Justin held his breath hoping Brian was still on board with the program and that he had managed to deflect his anger enough. 

 

Brian picked up the paper quickly glancing at the times for tomorrow. He mentally thought about his day and calculated going to the gym before the meeting. He pointed to a meeting and wrote the address in his phone. "That one will work. How's the coffee nearby?" Brian said, tongue in cheek.

 

Justin smiled; he had succeeded in deflecting Brian's anger and getting him to commit to another day of sobriety. He hoped it was another day, but at least he had committed to another meeting. "There is a gallery near there where I've shown my work. There is an awesome coffee shop across the street from the gallery. Of course, they have great coffee."

 

"Of course, they do. See you tomorrow." Brian placed several bills on the table to cover his portion of the tab and walked out the door.

 

It was 10:00, too late to work out, but not too late to go to Babylon. He really needed someone to suck his cock. He debated with himself for just a few moments and decided he really wasn't ready for Babylon. Instead, he drove home, undressed, grabbed the ever-present bottle of lube by his bed and jerked off to visions of Justin.

 

TBC


	7. Mikey's Lament

The next few days were a repeat of the previous two. Brian went to work, to the gym, and then attended a meeting in the evening. He usually ate breakfast at the diner but did not stay for small talk, pleading work deadlines. This didn't garner him any flack as everyone knew that he often worked late trying to meet deadlines. There were certain givens when you owned your own business and had employees dependent on you for their livelihood. 

 

But now it was Friday and Brian hadn't been seen in Babylon or Woody's for almost two weeks. As Michael sucked the last vestiges of soda from his glass, he said, "Brian, it's Friday and you've got to come out to Babylon tonight. You haven't hung out with me for a long time. I'll come by about 10:00."

 

Brian was not about to go to Babylon. He'd been sober for only two weeks and knew he couldn't maintain his sobriety if he was tempted like that. He'd been resorting to using the Internet for pickups, so he was getting his cock sucked on a regular basis. He wasn't ready to tell anyone why he wasn't going either. He knew he would never be able to stay away indefinitely, but maybe in another few weeks, he could handle the temptation.

 

"No can do, Michael. I've got plans."

 

"Plans. You've had plans every night for the last two weeks," Michael said in his typical whine. "I need to have plans with my best friend. When am I going to see you?"

 

"Why Mikey, you're seeing me now," Brian said, tongue in cheek. He was not going to be goaded into going to Babylon just because Michael wanted him to do it. Brian threw down some money to cover his portion of the bill and stood up. "Gotta go, boys," Brian said and looked at Ted. "Theodore, your boss doesn't like it when you're late to work," Brian walked to the door, not looking back at the men.

 

He walked the few blocks to Kinnetik and greeted Cynthia as he walked by her desk. "Cynthia, get me the folder on the CVS account."

 

"Morning boss."

 

"Morning," Brian said. He knew she hated it when he didn't greet her before asking for things. He hated to admit that Mikey got on his nerves this morning. He knew he hadn't spent a lot of time with him lately, but he'd been busy. Between work, the gym and meetings he really hadn't had a lot of extra time. He didn't want to admit to anyone but after he and Justin attended their meeting and went for coffee, he often went home and read some of the AA book. Frequently he hooked up with a trick but after relieving that need, he spent an hour or so reading and reflecting. 

 

Cynthia came into his office with the requested file, handing it to him. "You've got a conference call at 9:00 with Leo Brown and the Samsill rep, John, wants a little of your time."

"What the hell does he want? Can't you take care of it?"

 

"Don't shoot the messenger, Brian."

"Yeah. Yeah. I assume he is here, waiting."

 

"Yes."

 

"Give me 15 minutes to review the CVS file and then send him in. If I'm not done with him in 10 minutes, come in here with some urgent need."

 

"Sure boss."

 

He read the CVS file, met with the Samsill rep and continued working on the information for Leo Brown's call. After the call with Leo, he finally had a break and thought about the weekend. It was now two weeks since he'd had a drink. He still craved alcohol, especially when he finally arrived home after a long day. Of course, just coming from an AA meeting kind of put a damper on the drinking thing. 

 

While he was contemplating his life, he heard a commotion out in the reception area and knew Mikey was there. Mikey was still unconvinced that Brian could just drop whatever he was doing and pay attention to him. How he usually managed to come when Brian wasn't actually on the phone was always a mystery to Brian. As a result, Mikey never believed that Brian was so busy that he couldn't see him. Luckily Ted's office was on the other side of reception and he usually came out and distracted Michael, leaving Brian to complete whatever work he was doing at the time. Unfortunately, Ted was not in his office on this auspicious day and Mikey barged into Brian's office despite Cynthia's urging that Brian was busy. She stood at the door mouthing an apology as Mikey barged into Brian's office.

 

"Hello, Mikey. Don't you have a business to run?" Brian said, with an obvious disdain to his words. Brian hit save on his computer and cursed Mikey under his breath. Maybe I should invest in a punch code or key card to get in my office. I'll have to see what Ted can come up with. I just cannot continue to have Mikey or Lindsay barge into here whenever they deem it absolutely vital. So far, I've been lucky but one day their actions are going to get me in real trouble with a client.

 

"Brian. You have just got to come to Babylon this weekend. I just heard that Danny Devore is going to be there. He is one of the most famous drag queens around. I just have to see him,' Michael said, the enthusiasm in his voice almost jumping out of his body. He didn't appear to acknowledge Brian's hint that he had a business to run and that he might actually be interrupting Brian's work day. 

 

"No can do. I've got Gus tonight and I have plans on Saturday." Brian had Gus overnight one Friday night a month. He usually spent time with him during the day on Saturday or Sunday, but hardly ever on both days. He had agreed a long time ago that one night a month he was willing to forego Babylon and his usual haunts to spend quality time with his son. When he had Gus overnight, they went to dinner, rented a movie and now that he was older, they played video games. It was always set in stone that he had him on the second Friday of the month. This way his mothers would be able to plan their activities and Brian would be assured that he would have Gus on a regular basis. 

 

"Can't you just change the date? Danny is only going to be here one weekend," Michael said, the whining getting louder and more pathetic.

 

"No can do, Mikey. If I start changing the date, who knows what Lindsay will do. I only have him one Friday a month and this is that Friday. I've been doing this since he was one and it is not going to change now. You need to leave. Cynthia said I was busy and unlike some people, I have a business to run that doesn't allow me to stop in the middle of the day to interrupt my friends," Brian said, the chastising evident in his comments.

 

"Will we at least see you Sunday?"

 

"I'll be at Sunday breakfast and most likely at Ma's for dinner. But other than that, I 'm not sure what my plans are. But right now, we are not talking about my social life. Goodbye, Mikey. I have work to do." Brian moved toward Michael, placed his hand on his shoulder and pushed him toward the door. As Michael left his office, Brian said,   
"I'm not to be disturbed."

 

"Sure thing, boss," Cynthia said as she looked at Michael with evil in her eyes.

 

Brian closed the door and returned to his desk where he put his head in his hands.

He was thankful that this weekend he had Gus as an excuse not to grace Babylon, but he knew that this would not last. Maybe he'd talk to Justin about it. Shit, Justin. He needed to go to a meeting and had told him that he'd go to the afternoon meeting today since he couldn't go tonight. 

 

It was close to 11:00. He could leave now and catch the meeting. It was not like him to leave in the middle of the morning, but he really needed a meeting, especially now. 

 

"Cynthia, I'm going out for a few hours. I'll be back about 2:00. Hold down the fort."

 

Cynthia looked at her boss with a confused expression but didn't comment. She knew better than to question Brian and understood if he wanted her to know what was going on, then he would tell her. "Sure, Boss."

 

Brian thought about stopping by Ted's to inform him he was going to a meeting but decided against it. Ted knew the real reason Brian had not been at Babylon or Woody's in the last few weeks. He had managed to deflect the conversation on several occasions when the "gang" was at the diner and they were pushing him regarding his continued absence from their respective playgrounds. Again, he acknowledged what a great friend Ted was, quiet and unobtrusive, but there when he needed him. 

 

He arrived at the meeting and quickly spotted the familiar blond head belonging to Justin. Making his way toward him, he sat down just in time for the meeting to start. He'd been focusing more on the contents of the meeting, especially since he'd begun reading the AA literature. Today's topic was fear. The speaker started out discussing fear and how he often drank to handle his fear of failure and the unknown. He had grown up in an abusive home and often feared that he was destined to end up in an abusive relationship. He didn't want to do that to anyone, so he was a loner. This exacerbated his fear of being alone all his life. Another participant commented that he performed poorly in school due to a learning problem and started drinking to address his fear of failure at school. His parents were very educated, and he didn't want to disappoint them. Each person who talked shared a story about how fear had an impact on their drinking. Brian listened and related to so many of the stories. He'd always thought of his situation as unique but was beginning to see that he shared a lot with other people who used alcohol to escape or address supposed inadequacies. The meeting continued for about 45 minutes, people shared their fears and sometimes people shared how they overcame those fears. 

 

The leader of the group stood up and thanked everyone for sharing and stated that he hoped that today's discussion was helpful to the attendees. He reminded everyone that there was coffee in the back. 

 

Justin looked at Brian and could see he was deep in thought. "Want to try the coffee here?"

 

Brian was torn between having a cup of coffee with Justin, maybe even trying to process the meeting and getting back to the office. Ted told him he would have to change but never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that meant talking to a relative stranger about his feelings. But admittedly, he had enjoyed the talks he had with Justin, a welcome surprise to this whole sobriety thing.

 

He knew he had some urgent deadlines to meet and he had Gus tonight. While he normally would have had Gus tomorrow, that opportunity was gone since he had a birthday party to attend. He would have to settle with having his son tonight and tomorrow morning. Although, since he didn't have Gus during most of the day on Saturday, he could work then. 

 

"I'm game, but if it is lousy, I don't have time to check out the local coffee bar. Gotta get to work."

 

"I'm surprised that you agreed to an afternoon meeting"

 

"My son is staying with me tonight so I can't exactly take a 10-year-old to an AA meeting. But tomorrow night is still good. You planning on attending the same one where we met?" Brian was floored at the words coming out of his mouth. He practically asked Justin out. Part of him wanted to backpedal, take back his words or at least pretend they weren't meant to solicit his interest in seeing Justin again, but the other part of him needed the reassurance that Justin would be there tomorrow. 

 

"Gus, right?"

 

"Yes," Brian didn't offer up any more information.

 

"I can make the meeting this Saturday. I can't always make Friday night and Saturday night meetings if I have a show to attend. My agent is pretty happy with me right now so I need to keep on her good side and that means showing up when she says I need to be somewhere."

 

"Let's get that coffee. I really do have to get back to work," Brian said, regretting that he wasn't going to get to spend the next hour or so with Justin.

 

They made their way to the coffee table and both men prepared their respective drinks. Brian took a tentative sip and shrugged his shoulders. "Fair, but it is still better than the coffee from last Saturday. I think no one had cleaned that coffee pot for at least a month. It seemed like you could taste every residual pot."

 

Justin sipped his coffee and nodded in agreement. "Not bad, but I agree it is way better than last Saturday's stuff. After the meeting tomorrow, we can go back to the coffee shop for some real coffee."

 

Brian was pleased with the invitation. Maybe he had managed to wear Justin down and he'd finally get the fuck he'd been wanting since they met. The thought made him pleased. If a little sharing of feelings and processing of meetings could get him in Justin's pants, he decided that it would have been worth the effort. The man had an ass that just begged to be rode and Brian knew they would both enjoy the ride.

 

Way too soon for Brian, he finished his coffee and bid Justin goodbye. Justin watched the tall man walk toward the door and made some decisions. He really needed to start helping Brian work the program. He hadn't pushed this first week since he recognized Brian's skittishness and hesitancy in regards to AA and its program. Justin knew that being Brian's sponsor was more involved than sitting in a meeting and offering to go for coffee afterward. Leaving the meeting, he started thinking about how he could help him.

 

Brian returned to work and left on time. He stopped at Lindsay and Mel's home to pick up Gus. 

 

Lindsay greeted him at the door, noticing the Toyota in the driveway. "Where's your jeep?"

 

"I was in an accident; this is a rental," Brian responded, stretching the truth. He was glad that she had taken that long to notice his car. While he was used to telling half-truths to Lindsay, he wasn't sure that he could have pulled off the tree incident when it happened. He obviously didn't bother saying that it was him that wrapped the car around a tree. That statement would have resulted in Lindsay most likely forbidding him in keeping Gus. "Happened a couple of weeks ago; just been so busy with work that I haven't gone to pick out a new jeep. Since I don't have Gus tomorrow, I'll probably do it then."

 

"Oh. Were you hurt? Why didn't you say anything? I could've come over," Lindsay said, all solicitous. 

 

"I'm not sixteen. I don't need you to hold my hand every time something bad happens. And, yes, I'm fine," Brian said, getting perturbed at her questions. Lindsay to the rescue, regardless if he needed any rescuing, was a common theme in their relationship. She continually tried to insert herself into his business, claiming that she needed to know since he was Gus father. It angered him but he rarely called her on it for fear of her holding back his access to Gus.

 

There it was. Fear. Just like the speaker talked about at the meeting this afternoon. Fear was a powerful emotion and often times people drank to conquer their fears. He would have to think about fear and if it was a contributing factor in his drinking. Right now, he needed to get away from his son's mother before he lost his temper and said things he shouldn't. 

 

Gus came around the corner at that moment and Brian was never so glad to see him. "Ready, Dad? I want to play that new game on your XBox. I thought we could go to Mario's for pizza. I know no carbs after 7:00 but it's only 6 now and if we hurry we can make it before 6:30. I know you like their chicken too."

 

Brian smiled at his son. Being a father was one of his greatest pleasures, something that surprised him immensely. He would do anything for his son and evidently that included stopping drinking. 

 

They went to dinner and had a great meal and afterward returned to Brian's loft. They got out the controllers for the Xbox and started playing the new game. In the middle of the game, the buzzer rang. Brian cursed under his breath, knowing it had to be one of two people: Michael or Debbie. Neither one of which he really wanted to see. He'd told Mikey that he had Gus tonight and was not happy that he did not listen. He buzzed the interloper up, thinking that whoever it was would not stop until he let them up anyway.

 

As he opened the door, he saw he was correct in his assumption and Mikey was walking out of the elevator. "Brian, Ma said she'd come and stay with Gus so we could go to Babylon. I know you wouldn't want to miss seeing Danny Devore. He's such a classic," Michael said as he walked into the loft and headed toward Brian's bedroom. He opened the closet, rifling through the clothes, choosing several shirts for Brian to pick from. Walking out to the living area, he held out the shirts and said, "Here. One of these should work," he said as he laid them on the back of the couch. "Ma should be here in about 20 minutes. Why don't you go take a shower and I'll play with Gus?"

 

Brian was furious. Going to the door, he opened it again and turned toward Michael. "Get out! I told you I had Gus and I wasn't going. Now leave."

 

"But Brian. We haven't spent any time together in weeks. Ma volunteered to come and stay with Gus. I don't see what the big deal is. You'll spend time with him on Sunday."

 

"Michael, I'm not explaining anything to you. Now go and I suggest you call your mother and tell her that you made a mistake and not to come here." Brian waved Michael out of the loft.

 

Michael started to protest, but Brian gave him a stern look and he walked out, but not before saying, "I don't really see what the big deal is. We've got to find time to hang out. I thought you'd be happy that you could go to Babylon instead of hanging with Gus."

 

Brian watched his friend walk to the door and practically pushed him out the door before rolling it closed. Sometimes he hated that he couldn't slam the door. 

 

Gus looked at Brian and said, "Dad, if you want to go to Babylon, it's okay with me. I like Grandma Debbie and she can watch me."

 

Brian turned toward his son and said, "Gus. I don't want to go to Babylon. I want to be here with you. We don't get to spend the day tomorrow together because you have a birthday party to attend. I can go to Babylon any time. I choose to spend my time with you."

 

"But Uncle Michael seemed pretty disappointed since he wanted to spend time with you too. I don't want to get him mad."

 

Brian ran his hands across his head, flattening his hair and motioned for Gus to join him on the couch. "Come here, Sonny Boy."

 

Gus joined him on the couch. 

 

"Gus, I see Michael almost every day, but I only see you a few times a week. Michael is an adult and can just get over himself. I'm not always going to have the time or want to do the things he wants. Now, I told Michael that I'm spending my evening with you so let's spend some time together before you have to go to bed. I think there is an Xbox game that we were playing before we were so rudely interrupted."

 

Gus gave Brian a big hug and went to get the two controllers. After giving Brian his controller, he started the game again and they played for a few hours. Brian was always a little surprised at how much he enjoyed spending time with his son and sometimes wondered when the other shoe would drop and Gus would realize that he was a terrible father.

 

It was getting late, almost 10:00 p.m. and Brian knew Gus had a birthday party to attend. It wouldn't be a good idea to keep him up too late. Lindsay would bitch at him that Gus wasn't getting proper sleep and then Lindsay would give him another lecture about his ability to care for his son. He felt himself getting angry just thinking about the "conversation". He was beginning to recognize some of those feelings that the participants talked about in AA. The feelings that made him want to drink. Shit! Maybe it wasn't all mumbo jumbo. 

 

"Gus, time for you to get ready for bed. Go brush your teeth and get ready."

 

Brian knew that he really needed to find another solution for Gus's sleeping arrangements. When he was small, he had slept on the couch but he was too big to do that and now shared Brian's bed. He always made sure there were fresh sheets on the bed, but he often thought that he needed a separate bed for him. Deciding that today was not the time to ponder sleeping arrangements, he went to the bedroom, turned down the bed and waited for Gus to leave the bathroom. Gus came out a few minutes later and got in the bed, yawning as he laid down.

 

"Night Dad. You're the best. I'm glad you stayed home with me. I like Grandma Debbie but she doesn't play Xbox very well."

 

Brian smiled rifled Gus' hair and leaned down to give him a quick kiss. "I don't imagine Debbie would do well at XBox. See you in the morning." He walked out of the bedroom and turned off the lights as he left. Gus would be asleep in a few minutes.

 

Brian walked out to the living room, eyeing his liquor cabinet. No one told me that I should get rid of its contents. There aren't any AA police. I'm at home and there is no one around. Gus is safe in my bed and I'm not driving. Today has really been for Shit!! First Lindsay starts by telling me I can't have Gus in the morning and then Mikey interrupts my day twice to go to see some fucking Drag Queen. Can't the man take no for an answer? And to think he solicited Deb to come over and "watch" Gus. He walked toward the cabinet and saw the fidget toy laying on the table. Ted told him he kept one in various places; several on his desk and a few in his home. He had left one of the toys by the liquor cabinet. Innocuous enough to explain as one of Gus toys that he forgot to put away, but enough of a visual cue to make him think. He wanted a drink so badly. He could taste the slight burn of the Beam going down his throat. He could feel the burn as it traveled down his throat into his body, warming it up from the inside as it calmed his nerves and fed his coping mechanisms. He reached for the latch of the cabinet and drew his hand back. Instead, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. Without thinking too much, he dialed the number, hoping Justin was willing and able to answer.

 

TBC


	8. First Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay- I lost my password and had to find it. ( silly excuse, but really true) I'll be posting a couple of times a week to make up for lost time

Printer Chapter or Story  
\- Text Size +

 

"Hello, Brian," Justin said as he recognized the caller ID. Justin didn't want to ask how things were as he was fairly certain that this was not a social call. 

 

"I want a drink," Brian said.

 

"I'm glad you called. Tell me what is going on."

 

"I had a for shit today. When I went to pick up Gus, his mom was all up in my face about why I didn't tell her that I had an accident. She would have come over and helped me, yada yada. The fucking accident was two weeks ago and I did just fine. I don't need anyone to ‘help me'. She was so fucking condescending like I was some kid who needed to be coddled since I had an accident. Then when Gus and I get home, we are playing the new Xbox game I got him and my buzzer to my building rings. I figure it is either Mikey or Debbie, his mom. I had already told Mikey that I wasn't free tonight but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He practically barges into the loft and walks right in my bedroom. He fucking goes into my closet and picks out 3 shirts for me to choose from. Then he has the balls to tell me that I should go shower and get ready as his mom is coming over to watch Gus while we go see some fucking drag queen at Babylon."

 

"You've been bombarded."

 

"Yeah. I'm so fucking angry. I remembered that whole conversation about anger and people drinking. I don't think I drink because I'm angry but I do know I really want a drink."

 

As Justin listened without making any judgments or accusations, Brian appeared to calm down.

 

"Ted gave me these fidget things after my first meeting, he said that they help distract him. I thought they were silly but I put one by the liquor cabinet. When I walked over there tonight, I saw it. Instead of reaching for the bottle I reached for my phone and called you. Not exactly sure what the hell you're going to do. I could easily go over and pour myself a drink as we talk, not that you could really stop me." Brian's urge to drink was strong but he figured that talking to Justin might help. He didn't want to analyze the situation too much. He wasn't one to ask for help but he recognized the need to reach out tonight or he would have most likely finished the entire bottle of Beam that was in his liquor cabinet.

 

"I'm glad you called. You made the right choice."

"Explain to me how talking to you is the right choice," Brian's voice was slightly agitated; he appeared to be escalating again.

 

"You had a choice between drinking or calling me. You made a conscious decision not to drink. If you want to work the program, you need to make the choice not to drink."

 

"So... Are you the fucking equivalent of an angel on my shoulder?" The image made Brian smile when he thought about Justin as a small angel sitting on his shoulder. "Whispering in my ear, you don't want to drink. You don't want to drink."

 

Justin smiled at the image, remembering the various cartoons and shows he'd seen through the years with those images. He'd never thought of himself as an angel and the depiction was amusing.

 

"No, Brian. I'm not your conscience. I'm here to listen to you and to help you. One of AA's prime principals is that we accept that we cannot do this alone. There is a higher power that we sometimes need. I know you don't believe in G-d and we talked about that issue. Basically, it means that we realize that willpower alone is not enough to stop drinking."

 

"So what do I do now?" Brian hated this back and forth, but he realized that just hearing Justin's voice and accepting that he was in his corner was actually helping.

 

"What do you want to do?"

 

"Justin.... If I fucking knew that, I wouldn't have called you. Quit your mumbo jumbo and tell me what I should do so I don't take a drink. That bottle of Beam in the cabinet is really calling my name."

 

Justin took a deep breath. This was probably one of the most important conversations he was going to have with Brian. If Brian failed and took a drink, he would really question the value of AA and Justin's sponsorship. He'd seen many people through the last year and watched their struggles and listened to their stories. Time and time again people shared their breakthrough moment and he was always inspired by their stories. He had been there and done that, now was his chance to help another person succeed in this difficult journey.

 

"Brian, Gus is there. Right? You said you were going to have him tonight. That's why you went to the meeting in the afternoon?"

 

"Yeah, Gus is here."

 

"You said you want to stop drinking because of Gus."

 

"Right."

 

"Do you want to drink knowing Gus is in the other room?"

 

The question stopped Brian in his tracks. While Gus was unlikely to wake up, he usually slept soundly, if Brian started to drink he would most likely drink the entire contents of the bottle. He'd done that more times that he could count. He'd start drinking and his next memory would be that the bottle was empty. Unfortunately, there were way too many times where he just grabbed another bottle in an attempt to stop his brain from thinking about whatever situation he was dealing with at the time. He didn't want Gus to wake up in the middle of the night or in the morning and find him sprawled out on the couch where he passed out from the alcohol.

 

"No. He's seen me drink a few beers at his soccer game or have a beer at Deb's but, he's never seen me passed out on the couch. The way I feel right now, I'm pretty certain that he would find me here in the morning, passed out after drinking a bottle or two. That is not a sight I ever want him to see."

 

When Brian said the words out loud, he looked toward his bedroom, saw the sleeping innocent child in the middle of the bed and the urge to open the liquor cabinet lessened. He never wanted to hurt that little boy and he would do everything in his power to not cause him pain. He did not want him to ever see his father drunk or hear about some horrible accident that was a result of his drinking. 

 

"Gus shouldn't grow up with a drunk for a father. If he weren't here I'd probably already be through at least half that bottle of Beam, but I won't do that to him. I won't have him wake up to his father passed out in the living room," Brian said. Justin could hear the resolve in Brian's voice, but he also heard something else, but he wasn't sure what it was. 

 

Deciding to take a chance, he asked, " You said your father was an alcoholic and your mom drank a lot as well. I take it that you found them passed out on more than one occasion?"

 

Brian said, "My dad was a mean drunk. He would come home from the union hall almost every night and he was usually drunk. I'd be watching tv or sitting on the couch; it didn't matter because my presence always made him angry. He would hit me for some random indiscretion that only he knew about. Sometimes I'd stay in my room in the evenings so he didn't see me, but he often times went there to find me so that he could hit me. If he passed out after doling out my punishment for some unknown transgression, I don't have any idea. I never went looking for him, staying clear to lick my wounds as it were." The words came out of Brian as if he were telling about someone else's experience as if they didn't happen to him. It was like he was an observer in the family's home and not a participant. There was little emotion shared. 

 

"As for my mother, I never saw her passed out either. She was always drinking Sherry to calm her nerves. She was probably always a little tipsy. Sort of hair of the dog thing. I imagine she has never been really sober. She just didn't drink into oblivion. Not sure pops did either, but he was a mean drunk and I tried to stay out of his path."

 

"I'm sorry you had such difficult parents," Justin said, getting a glimpse into Brian's past and some knowledge of his drinking behavior. 

 

"Sorry's bullshit. No apologies. No regrets," Brian said, using one of his mottos. 

 

"Ouch. So you have no regrets in your life?" Justin asked, wondering how anyone could go through life without wanting a few ‘do overs'.

 

"Doesn't do anyone any good. You can't change the past and think about the crap that happened that can't be changed is just wasted thought."

 

"So wrapping your car around a tree is not something you regret?" Justin asked, trying to help this man and understand how his mind worked.

 

"No reason to waste thoughts on wishing it didn't happen. Besides, it finally gave me the reason to stop drinking. If this AA shit works, I won't regret wrapping my car around a tree. My kid will never have to worry that he is taking his life in his hands any time he's with his old man; and I won't have to worry if I managed to balance the number of drinks that I had at his soccer game with my ability to safely navigate the road back to his house."

 

"So do you still want that drink?"

 

Brian did a quick check on his thoughts and realized that he didn't feel that overwhelming need to drown them in liquor. "No, I think I'm good. Gus means more to me than the liquor in the cabinet."

 

"Good. I'm glad I could help," Justin said, a small smile coming across his face as he realized he might really be able to help Brian, be a successful sponsor. He already could tell from the few conversations they had in the last week that this man was complex and it appeared that he used alcohol to deal with difficult situations rather than face unpleasantness. True, every alcoholic he'd ever met had a ton of emotional baggage as did most people. The key was unraveling the baggage and discovering new ways to handle the uncomfortable parts of your life.

 

"Are you coming to the meeting tomorrow night or are you going to a different one earlier in the day? If I remember correctly, you said you usually have Gus during the day on Saturday, but tomorrow will be different. Doesn't he have something to do?"

 

Brian's first thought was to bristle at the question. After all, Justin was not his keeper; he didn't need to account to anyone about his plans or whereabouts. If he didn't know better, it almost sounded like Mikey and his constant desire to know Brian's every move and commitment. But he recognized the question for what it was, a way to change the topic and to offer something for Brian to look forward to and another chance to work the program. 

 

"Tomorrow night works. After tonight I still don't think my presence at Babylon or Woody's is a good idea. I might even be willing to be talked into tasting more than the coffee at the place down the street," Brian said tongue in cheek. He realized he was actually looking forward to the meeting since he was fairly certain Justin was planning on being there. He still wanted to get into the man's pants, but his desire to do so had lessened in the week. He was beginning to see that sex would complicate the situation and he could get his dick sucked anytime by anyone. He was still very leery sharing his turmoils with people, but he was beginning to trust Justin to have his back. 

 

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow night." There was a brief moment of silence and Justin added, "And Brian, I really am glad you called. Have a good rest of your evening."

 

Brian heard the click on the phone, signaling that Justin had disconnected the call. Brian looked toward the liquor cabinet, checking to be sure he really was over the strong desire to drink himself into oblivion and was somewhat surprised to feel that the urge was gone. He would have to be lying to himself to think that he did not want a drink, but the almost uncontrollable urge to drown in a bottle was gone. Glancing at Gus asleep on the bed, he whispered a quiet, "Thank you."

 

It was too early for him to retire, so he clicked on the TV, flipped the channels until he found Rebel Without a Cause, and watched the movie. As the movie played, he allowed his mind to wander, not focusing on any area in particular. Thoughts of Gus, Lindsay, Ted, Mikey, Blake, his accident, his first AA meetings, the call to Justin tonight all flitted in and out of his consciousness. 

 

When the movie was over, he yawned, realizing that he was actually tired. As he readied himself for bed, he was taken slightly aback when he acknowledged that up until a few weeks ago, he often collapsed into bed, often due to inebriation rather than fatigue. He was intrigued that he was beginning to hear the signals from his body, recognizing hunger, fatigue and even a little anxiety. Deciding that this was something to examine at another time, he got into bed and went to sleep. 

 

TBC


	9. Two Weeks Sober

Saturday morning Gus and Brian went to the diner for breakfast. He hoped that Deb wouldn't be working to start the queer inquisition regarding his absence from Babylon, Woody's and her son's life. He was sure that Michael's laments regarding Brian's failure to spend time with him would be the topic of choice for Debbie. Debbie frequently felt the need to intervene and give her opinion where it was not wanted or needed. Brian didn't feel compelled to explain his whereabouts to anyone, except perhaps Justin. Justin expected him at meetings and he knew that he really needed to attend them. Even if Justin expected his attendance, he doubted Justin would make a big fuss if he failed to show up to a meeting. He might not be willing to continue their sponsorship if he felt that Brian was not working the program, but he didn't think that one missed meeting would result in the end of Justin's willingness to help him. 

 

"Dad. Dad. What are you going to have for breakfast?" Gus asked for the second time. Brian was usually pretty attentive to Gus but Gus saw he was obviously thinking about something else as he had called his name and Brian had not responded.

 

"Oh," he looked at Gus and then Debbie. "I'll have the egg white omelet and wheat toast, dry."

 

Debbie smiled and nodded her head. "Gus, honey. I doubt your Dad even really needs to be asked what he will have for breakfast. It never changes." she said as she wrote down his order. "I'll get you your milk and your Dad some coffee." She hurried off to place their order and Gus turned toward Brian.

 

"You're a million miles away. What's up, Dad?"

 

"Just thinking about your Grandma Deb. I'm hoping she doesn't start in on me about why I haven't been hanging out with Michael. I wasn't really happy that he volunteered for her to come over last night and I really don't want to talk to her about it."

 

"Okay," Gus said, thinking there was more to the conversation but wasn't going to push his Dad. "Can we go to the store and buy me some new cleats? My old ones are just about shot and when I ask the moms they just complain that they just bought me new ones a few months ago."

 

While the statement was innocent enough, it made Brian angry. He gave Lindsay plenty of money so that she could buy Gus things like new cleats but Gus frequently asked him to buy those items. He often wondered what happened to the money he gave her for Gus. He wasn't going to put Gus in the middle. He had plenty of money and was more than happy to buy the items for him, but it angered him that Gus had to ask as a result of his moms balking at the higher priced ticket items. Maybe he would confront Lindsay, but first, he had to feel confident in his sobriety. He was pretty certain the conversation would make him angry and he was beginning to wonder if being angry made him want to drink. 

 

"Sure. We can go to buy you some cleats. Anything else you need? We've got some time this morning. Your party isn't until 2:00, so we've got plenty of time," Brian said, already feeling the disappointment in not having his son all day. 

 

He only kept him one night and one full day the second week of the month. The other weekends, he usually either had him on Saturday or Sunday. He knew that it was not Gus' fault that he got invited to a birthday party on their weekend. Maybe he could ask if Lindsay would be willing to let him have Gus again next weekend. She had offered, but he declined. Now, he was having second thoughts. 

 

Ted had said he needed to develop new interests and spending time with his son was always something he enjoyed. He thought about increasing his overnights with Gus to more than once a month. The more he thought about the possibility, the more he found it intriguing. He knew he sometimes worked on Saturday, but he could just as easily move his work to Sunday. He would just have to ensure that he would not encroach on his staff if he chose to work a different day. They were very loyal to him, but seven day work weeks were beyond realistic expectations, even for him. 

 

Since hanging out at Babylon and Woody's was currently off the table for the foreseeable future, he needed something to distract him. Well, Gus wasn't a distraction and he was currently going to AA on Friday night. That would mean that if he had Gus, he wouldn't be able to attend AA. There were too many what-ifs to contemplate at this moment, but he put it in the back of his mind to think about in the future. 

 

After a few hours of shopping, they bought Gus' new cleats and Brian also purchased him some new clothing. He hated that Lindsay bought Gus' clothes at Target and even sometimes at the second-hand store. She could afford to buy him clothes from more upscale places. He understood why she didn't buy him clothing from Armani, but the second-hand store was just an insult. He was sure that the kids at school gave him grief about that. He really didn't need anyone giving his kid more difficulty than he already had. Having two moms and a gay dad was sufficient reason for kids to goad him; he didn't need to be dressed like some street urchin. He added that to the list of things he wanted to talk to Lindsay about. He briefly wondered if he had neglected to have these talks to avoid the discomfort they caused him. 

 

This was another thing he put in the back of his mind to think about at a later time. Sobriety was causing him to really look at a lot in his life. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not, but for now, he accepted that his life was already changing. As the thought bounced around in his mind he began to notice a small pattern to his life. He was putting off a lot of things until he was comfortable with his sobriety. Maybe this was supposed to happen. He filed it in the ask Justin section of his mind as he refused to spend more time contemplating future conversations when he needed to concentrate on the one right in front of him.

 

 

"Let's try out those new cleats," Brian said. It was just before noon and he didn't have to have Gus home until 2:00. They could kick the ball around for an hour or so and then he'd take him home. This would give him plenty of time to eat lunch, clean up and get to the party.

 

"Sure, Dad. Maybe we can practice my dribbling skills."

 

They drove to the park and Brian got his soccer cleats and the soccer ball out of his car. Gus and he often went to the park and practiced when they were together so he had gotten used to keeping the gear in his car. He had an extra pair of sweats and workout shirt too but decided that he wasn't going to be playing hard today so left those in the trunk. He'd been wearing jeans so while they were not ideal to play soccer, they would suffice for the little bit of workout he and Gus would have.

 

"Sonny boy, the key to good dribbling is to use the inside of your foot, not your toes. The only time you use your toes is to actually kick the ball to shoot a goal." Brian dropped the ball on the ground demonstrating using the inside of his foot to move the ball down the field. He passed the ball to Gus and he tried to imitate the moves. 

 

"Good. Now let's run down the field and pass the ball back and forth between us."

 

Gus and Brian made several runs up and down the field passing the ball between them. Brian was in great shape having never stopped working out and he was barely warm from their impromptu practice. He passed the ball to Gus and said, "Okay. You practice and I'll watch. It's a little hard to give you pointers as I'm dribbling the ball down the field."

 

They spent an hour at the park and then Brian took him home. Lindsay greeted them at the door, smiling but her tone was anything but happy.

 

"Brian, he has a birthday party to go to this afternoon. I told you that," she said. She eyed Gus up and down seeing that he really needed a shower before he went to the party. "Gus, go upstairs and shower. Be quick. We have to leave for the party in less than half an hour." She waved her hand, pointing toward the stairs. "Brian, he can't go to a party smelling like a locker room. Why didn't you bring him home earlier? He'll be late to the party."

 

"You told me to have him here by 2:00. It's before 2:00. If you wanted him earlier, you should have said so. I'm not a mind reader. I hate being late and you of all people should know that." He put his forefinger up to the bridge of his nose, unconsciously pushing away the anger and pain he was starting to feel. "I'll see you tomorrow at Debbie's." He didn't wait for her response, just turned and walked toward his car. 

 

Looking at the ugly rental, he drove toward the closest Jeep dealer. He might as well make good use of his unexpected free time. Since he had returned to work instead of spending the time having coffee with Justin, he had managed to get most of his work done before he left to pick up Gus. Getting a new jeep would serve many purposes. It would stop him from driving that ugly ass rental. It would also lessen the likelihood that the rest of the gang would finally notice that he was still driving the rental. He was still surprised that the "family" hadn't questioned him more regarding the rental. Maybe his reticence to talk about things going on in his life actually paid off in this situation.

 

Avoiding talking to his family was a familiar habit. Since he didn't share the daily minutiae with his friends, he hadn't really shared anything about his accident. Of course, Ted knew since he was his accountant and had to deal with all the insurance crap, but yesterday no one in the family even knew about it. Thankfully they were all so involved in their petty lives that no one really paid attention to the fact that he was not driving his Jeep. It also saved him from mindless chatter about trivial things like which celebrity star he would rather sleep with. Since he could pretty well sleep with anyone he chose, he always found those discussions a waste of time. But now as he attended more AA meetings and had a few short conversations with Justin, he was beginning to realize that talking was going to be a necessary component of his efforts to maintain sobriety. He was certain he wanted to maintain sobriety, he just wasn't 100% sold on the whole talking and spilling his inner thoughts to a stranger. Hell, if truth be told, he wasn't thrilled about spilling his inner thoughts to anyone, stranger or not. 

 

He arrived at the Jeep dealership and picked out his new vehicle. Thankfully as a result of Kinnetik's prosperity, he never worried about the price tag of items; he just bought what he wanted. He ticked off the accessories that were essential and the salesperson located a vehicle that met his needs. Brian contacted the rental agency and was told he could return the car until 5:00 pm that day. He made arrangements with the dealership and rental agency for the logistics of delivering both vehicles and drove to the dealership to drop off the car. He called Ted to take care of the insurance for the new vehicle. By 6:00 he had his new vehicle and about an hour until the AA meeting started.

 

He realized he missed lunch and hopefully, Debbie would no longer be working. Gus and he had been at the diner around 8:30 this morning, therefore unless she was working a double shift, she would be long gone. Since she had started seeing that cop, she was less likely to work a double shift. Thoughts of Debbie dating made him shiver and shake his head. Even though she wasn't his mother, it was like she was his parent and no adult wanted to ever think of his parent dating. He walked into the diner and looked around. Thankfully he had hit the eatery at just the right time. Too late for those folks grabbing something as they shopped on the avenue but way too early for anyone to be eating before going to the clubs. The clubs didn't start hopping until 10:00 at the earliest so 6:00 was way too early to be hanging around Liberty Avenue in your club ware. 

 

Briefly, he thought about what he would typically be doing on a Saturday night at 6:00 and realized he would usually be finishing up his visit with Gus. Since he only had Gus overnight one night a month, the other weekends he would pick him up before breakfast and return him after dinner. They would have almost 12 hours together. He realized that usually, he would drop Gus off, visit with Lindsay for maybe 30 minutes and then he often hit the treadmill for an hour or so before getting ready to go to Babylon. He often indulged Gus by eating carb-laden foods and felt the need to work off some of those calories. He'd go home, run 45 minutes to an hour, shower, and then head to Babylon. Depending on his mood, he might hit Woody's and then go to Babylon. But Babylon on Saturday night was sacrosanct and he realized he hadn't been there in almost 2 weeks nor was he likely to go for a while. He realized as the weeks progressed, he was going to have to tell the family something, but he really didn't know what he would tell them. The truth seemed a little bit unbelievable and he still wasn't convinced that the support of his "friends" would be what he needed to remain sober.

 

He picked up the menu and while he knew it by heart, he took a few minutes to peruse it, determining he would have meatloaf for dinner. It came with mashed potatoes which were far better than fries and a salad. The salad lacked any nutritional value, being mostly iceberg lettuce and a few measly croutons, but it was better than eating corn or wilted green beans that hadn't seen the garden in way too many days. As he waited for his food he started thinking of his day and the many times he recognized anger, fear, and happiness. He'd never really stopped to think about his feelings and wasn't really too keen on the idea that sobriety was pushing him toward that recognition. He wondered if Justin would ask him about their phone call? He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about that either. Deciding he was thinking too damn much, he pulled out his phone and clicked on the internet, going to Forbes to read the latest business news. 

 

As he was finishing his dinner, Emmett came in and started to sit down in the booth. Brian looked up from his phone and glared at the interloper.

 

"No Gus?" Emmett asked.

 

Brian was somewhat taken aback by the question, not realizing that anyone ever noticed that Gus was usually with him on a Saturday night.

 

"Gus is at home with his mommies. Evidently, birthday party trumps dad time," Brian said, tongue in cheek.

 

"Oh. No Gus, that means you can come shoot some pool later on and then join us at Babylon. Michael is right, it has been ages since we've seen you. Where have you been keeping yourself?"

 

Brian felt a cold shiver go through his body. It was the same feeling he felt as a child when his father would find him in his room at night. He would curl himself into as small a ball as possible and then lay perfectly still under the covers, hoping that he would be fooled that Brian was not there. Unfortunately, his father wasn't fooled and often threw the covers off of him, yanked him out of bed and slapped him around a bit. Usually, his father had some bizarre reason in his head why Brian deserved a thrashing, but it didn't matter if there was a reason or not. Brian remembered that feeling, and now hated the simple question that brought back the undesired chill that ran over his body.

 

Emmett looked at his friend and saw the deer in the headlights look in his eyes. He was fairly certain that Brian did not realize he was doing this.

 

"No can do, Honeycutt."

 

Emmett did not bother correcting Brian's referring to him by his last name. Emmett felt there was something going on and he wanted to help.

 

"Brian, are you sick? Is Kinnetik in trouble? What is going on? You can tell me. I'll not tell a soul," Emmett urged as he made a zipping motion across his lips.

 

Brian looked around the diner. It was practically empty and they were sitting in the back of the establishment. He toyed with the idea of telling Emmett. Emmett could keep a secret, despite his tendency to gossip. There had been times in their lives where he had sworn Emmett to secrecy and Emmett had kept his word. 

 

Emmett wasn't like Michael, swearing to keep someone's trust and blabbing the information within half an hour. If you wanted some news spread on Liberty Avenue, all you had to do was to tell Michael. While Michael professed to be his best friend, he knew that was no longer the case. Just a quick review of the last 24 hours and Michael's barging into his life not once, but twice as he insisted that Brian join him solidified his thoughts on the subject. On the other hand, Emmett had kept his confidence on several occasions. He knew that he would eventually have to tell his "family" about his journey and maybe Emmett could help him deflect their attention.

 

Brian looked around one last time ensuring that no one was in hearing distance. Still feeling unsafe telling Emmett here, he said, "Okay, but not here. Let's take a quick walk outside and then I have to go."

 

Emmett was intrigued and somewhat surprised by Brian's request. Thoughts of double agents and secret service quickly raced through his mind but then he inwardly grinned that Brian would never pass a security clearance. With as many men that crossed his threshold in a week, he was a huge security risk. Maybe he had witnessed a murder or a robbery and now he was in hiding. That made sense. Emmett rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the juicy story of how Brian Kinney was hiding from thugs. 

 

Brian watched Emmett and wondered if he was making the right choice, but decided he needed someone else on his side. Ted and Blake were great but they were a little quiet for him, whereas Emmett's flame burned bright and it was actually something Brian admired. Emmett, like Brian, knew who he was and didn't attempt to hide in the crowd. While Ted knew he was gay, he did not push the agenda. Brian's motto, "If I'm not fucking you, then it's not your concern." was more in line with his personality. Brian paid his bill and the two men walked out of the diner. They walked a few blocks in silence; Brian making certain that no one he knew was in earshot.

 

Brian took a deep breath and said, "I'm an alcoholic and I've been attending AA meetings."

 

Emmett stopped in his tracks and looked at Brian. "Okay." They continued to walk.

 

TBC


	10. No More Secrets

"You're an alcoholic," Emmett said, trying to keep his voice in a normal tone. He wanted to stop and look at his friend, see his face, look for any obvious differences. He wanted to hug him and provide comfort but knew that would be unacceptable. He wanted to ask him what had happened, why did he think he was an alcoholic? He knew Brian drank like a fish and took drugs like they were candy, but this behavior was not new. In the 12 years that Emmett had known him, Brian had always been liked that. But he didn't stop, didn't turn his head to see if Brian had any visible changes, didn't start asking what had happened, instead, he waited for Brian to continue talking. 

 

Emmett and Brian continued to walk down the street, stopping at crosswalks and waiting for the signal to alert them it was okay to walk across. As they walked several blocks and he waited for Brian to add to his statement, Emmett thought about Brian. Brian was not one to share many intimate details of his life. Emmett realized that Brian often listened to the conversations of the "gang" rather than actively participate. He was very protective of his private life. Thinking about his friend, he admitted to himself that he really knew very little about Brian's activities away from work and Babylon. Did he have hobbies or interests? Did he like to travel for fun or just business? What about his family? Emmett realized Brian never talked about any of those things. He started questioning what type of friend he was if he didn't know those basic things about Brian. 

 

When Brian had not talked for several blocks, Emmett realized he would have to be the one to continue the conversation. He asked, "You're staying away from Babylon and Woody's to avoid temptation?"

 

"Smart man," Brian said, still feeling like he was ripping the Band-Aid off a particularly painful wound. Justin was already pushing him to share and talk about his feelings. He wasn't certain if he was ready to do that with other people in his life. 

 

Emmett really wanted to start asking Brian all the questions going through his mind but recognized Brian's short answers as the way Brian was handling the disclosure but keeping his persona intact. "If you're not going to Woody's, what are you doing?" He hoped this question would give him just a little insight into Brian's interests. Once he knew those, he could suggest the two of them do something together. 

 

Brian frowned, balking at revealing that he was attending AA meetings but realized that he was going to have to disclose that information too. He silently damned his reckless driving that resulted in wrapping his car around a tree. If it hadn't been for doing that, he wouldn't be in this situation. He stopped short of going down that road of ‘what ifs' when he realized that it wasn't reckless driving that caused the accident; it was his inebriated state. He was the sole cause of the accident and he should be thankful that no one was injured in the aftermath. 

 

"I go to AA meetings every night. And then I find a trick, get my dick sucked and go to bed. Being sober has one benefit. I get to the office a lot earlier," Brian said tongue in cheek, trying to put a little levity into the conversation. He was not about to admit that he was using an app to find said tricks. Brian Kinney did not need any help in getting his sexual needs met.

 

Emmett's first impulse was to offer a quick retort along the lines of Brian recognizing what was important, his tricks but bit his tongue. Brian trusted him with this very sensitive information, and he wanted to show Brian that he appreciated his willingness to share.

 

"Does Ted know?" Emmett remembered how Brian helped his friend by offering him a job when he got out of rehab and since that time, Ted had appeared to have a special bond with him.

 

"Yes. And now, so do you. No one else knows and I hope you can keep your promise of not saying anything," Brian said, his voice as steely and firm as he could make it. 

 

Emmett made a zipping motion with his fingers across his lips. "Can I do anything?" Emmett knew the answer before he asked. Brian Kinney did not ask for help, but he still felt the need to offer.

 

"Just keep your mouth shut," Brian said, wondering what insanity passed over him to tell his secret to the biggest gossip on Liberty Avenue. Brian grabbed his phone from his pocket and looked at the time. "I have to go."

 

Emmett asked, "Headed to a meeting?" 

 

"Yes." Brian placed his phone back in his pocket, turned back toward the diner and walked to his car. He did not wait for Emmett to catch up to him and Emmett stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes as he gathered his thoughts. He wanted to go talk to Teddy, his friend and evidently the only other person that knew the truth about Brian's whereabouts, but he decided that he needed to think on things before he spoke, even to his friend Ted.

 

Brian got in his car, thinking about the last 36 hours. During that time, he had been pushed by Michael twice to join him at Babylon and his friend had difficulty accepting his "no" response. Michael had gone as far as soliciting his mother to come to watch Gus so Brian could join him at Babylon. Lindsay, the mother of his child became all solicitous when he told her about his wrecked car and then got angry when he brought Gus back on time, but dirty and needing a shower. He'd spent some quality time with his son but almost took a drink to deal with all the crap he'd been handed during the day. He'd called his sponsor and Justin had successfully talked him down, but he wondered if he'd be headed toward a meeting if he had taken the drink. And now, to top off all the other shit, in a moment of weakness, for surely, he would never have admitted his activities otherwise, he told Emmett he was attending AA. 

 

His mind wandered back and forth but never came to any conclusions or plans of action. It was just a jumbled mess of half-thoughts and ideas. He spotted Justin as soon as he walked in the room and sat beside him. 

 

"Hey," Justin said, greeting Brian with a casual voice. He wondered if he should bring up the call from last night but decided that was a bad idea. If Brian wanted to talk, he would. From the interactions they'd had up to this point, Brian did not appear to be the touchy-feely type. In fact, he was on the other extreme of the spectrum. Brian did not like to share, and it appeared that it was difficult for him to talk about things of substance. Justin knew he was going to have to push Brian and accepted he was going to have to move Brian out of his comfort zone if he were to embrace his sobriety.

 

"Hi," Brian said in return. He could feel the muscles in his back, tight and stiff from all that had happened in the last day. Combining all the events and his thoughts on the drive to the meeting, he understood why he was tense. As he sat down next to Justin, he exhaled, releasing some of the tension in his body. He didn't want to think about the release, but his mind told him that it was a form of relief. He'd made it through another day and especially through last night. Last night was the first time he wanted to drink, and he successfully navigated that landmine. 

 

Before Justin could start a conversation, the moderator called for everybody's attention. Today's topic was living one day at a time. The moderator started by talking about holding on to yesterday's events and how that was counterproductive to sobriety. 

 

"There is a fine line we have to walk. We want to understand our reasons for drinking and eliminate our excuses, but we also must accept that our choice to drink or not to drink is a constant decision that we make every moment of every day. We must be honest with ourselves; we're not fooling anyone. We must work hard at examining our lives and the choices we make but ultimately the drink is just around the corner, or in our desk drawer, or at the next party. We have to decide that drinking is not our choice for today," the moderator said, finishing his opening speech. He was a tall man who appeared to be in his mid-50s. His chiseled face was lined with crow's feet around his eyes and the smile lines around his mouth were filled with deep creases. He was dressed in a blue pullover shirt and jeans and appeared to be in good shape having no beer belly. Brian looked at him and decided that he did not look like an alcoholic but stopped himself as he passed that judgment when he realized that most people would not pin that label on him either. Looking around the small circle of people, he saw many participants nod their head in agreement with the moderator's words.

 

"I'm Jaclyn. When I first started coming to meetings, I thought someone would be asking me about my past. You know, the typical picture of psychoanalysis. But I realized that my past was my past and what I really needed to work on was my present and future. I needed to figure out what I wanted my life to be like today and tomorrow and the next day, not remind myself what it was like yesterday or last week. I couldn't change what happened last week, but I could influence what happened tonight or tomorrow." The woman who had spoken sat next to Brian and was soft-spoken. She too was dressed in jeans. She appeared to Brian to be younger than the moderator as she did not have any of the tell-tell signs of aging like crow's feet or laugh lines. She also wore her hair in a ponytail, appearing to Brian as if she had just come from the gym.

 

Justin chose to speak next. "I was really ashamed of my behavior when I started coming to meetings. I didn't want to admit to all my faults and to the terrible way I behaved when I drank. I realized that I couldn't change my actions from the past, but I could definitely choose not to repeat them. I talked to my sponsor on many occasions regarding my guilt and shame and he kept reminding me that I needed to accept the things I could not change. I can't turn back time, but I could manage the present. I learned that I had to live today, not yesterday."

 

Brian listened to all the speakers, trying to absorb their information. The common theme was living in the here and now. He could choose to be angry at Mikey and he could do that, but he needed to decide if he would let his anger control his desire to drink. He'd never really thought about drinking and its connection to his mood. He just drank as a matter of course. When the last speaker finished talking, the moderator reminded everyone to support AA and support each other. He also stated that there was coffee in the back and to stay as long as they wanted but reminded them that the community center was having an event for their high school students and it started at 9:00. 

 

Brian stood and walked toward the coffee station, waiting in line for his turn at the large urn. Grabbing two sugars he tore the packets, dumping their contents into his Styrofoam cup and then filled it with coffee. Stepping aside for the next person, he waited for Justin to grab his cup and then the two of them walked to the corner of the room. Brian took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. "Crap, that is awful. Why didn't you remind me that the coffee tastes like last month's grinds?" he asked Justin.

 

Justin smiled and said, "I thought you would remember since we just talked about it."

 

Brian nodded in agreement. Walking over to the trash can he dumped the cup and motioned for Justin to do the same. "Let's get real coffee at that diner."

 

"Sure," Justin said as he dumped his coffee in the trash as well. "Walk or drive?"

 

Brian was less unsure tonight than he had been a week ago. After a week of meetings, he was beginning to see that there might be legitimacy in the AA program. He wasn't so skittish and skeptical, so he said, "Walk."

 

Justin smiled and said, "Great."

 

They walked the few blocks toward the diner, each man thinking but not talking. Justin decided that he really wanted to talk to Brian face to face rather than as they walked. It was important to see someone's face to judge their true reactions.

 

Brian's brain decided that it should take up where it left off on the drive to the meeting; therefore, he really didn't have any complete thoughts, more like glimpses of half conversations with himself.

 

They were seated toward the back of the diner and both picked up the laminated menus that were nestled in the condiment corral. After deciding what to order the waitress brought them coffee and both men prepared their beverage to their own liking.

 

"I saw you deep in thought at the meeting. I really like Jeremy, he's a great speaker."

 

"Jeremy, so that's his name," Brian said.

 

"Yes. He's been sober for 5 years and has been leading the group for about 2. He's my sponsor."

 

"You have a sponsor? I thought .... Well I'm not sure what I thought. You just seem sure of yourself and you agreed to be my sponsor. I never really considered that the sponsor would have a sponsor." Brian took his spoon and stirred his coffee, even though he had just done that.

 

"Sure, I have a sponsor. I have times when I still want to talk about my sobriety. Just because I've been sober for a year doesn't mean that I don't have concerns. Alcoholism is a disease just like diabetes. You don't take your insulin one time and forget about it for the rest of the day. You have to monitor your food intake, your exercise, and even your sleep. Alcoholism is not something you treat for a day and never think of again. You will always be an alcoholic. Right now, you are an alcoholic but hopefully, in the future, you will be in recovery and can refer to yourself as a recovering alcoholic."

 

"I hadn't thought about it, but I guess that makes sense," Brian said as he contemplated Justin's statement. He took a drink from his coffee, smiling as he savored the taste. 

 

"I think Jeremy has some good ideas. Last night when I called.... I really wanted the drink, but you made me think about the reason I wanted the drink. Was I reaching because of wanting or was I reaching because I had a shitty day? I think for me the answer isn't quite so clear cut. I mean I wanted the drink but mostly I wanted it because I had a shitty day." Brian said, surprised at his willingness to talk about the incident. 

 

"Reaching for the booze is your way of coping with things that make you mad. Do you ever tell people that you are mad at them?" Justin asked.

 

"No. Why would I? I think apologies are worthless. You drop a plate and it breaks. Saying you're sorry doesn't put the plate back together again. You can't turn back time and change things so why bother with saying you're sorry."

 

The waitress brought Justin his sandwich and refilled Brian's coffee. While he appeared willing to spend some time at a diner, his no carbs after 7:00 rule was still in force.

 

Justin cut a piece from his meatloaf, swirled it in some ketchup and ate it. He savored the taste, concentrating on the mix of onion, garlic and some spice that he could not identify. Brian watched him as he ate and imagined what it would be like to kiss him and savor the taste as Justin appeared to be savoring the meatloaf. He quickly pushed that thought out of his head. He couldn't remember making a conscious decision that he wasn't going to push Justin to have sex, but somewhere in all his musings, that desire had been pushed to the wayside. He knew that he found him attractive and would enjoy pinning him to the mattress, but he also knew that he trusted him with his sobriety. For now, his sobriety was in the forefront and pinning him to the mattress would have to wait. He hoped that one day he'd have that opportunity, but for now, he was fairly certain he had taken it off the table.

 

"Brian, people generally don't like to piss off other people, especially their friends. If you don't tell people they have made you angry, how do you expect that they won't do it again?" Justin was genuinely perplexed at the statement. It seemed that Brian was just continuing to set himself up to be mad at people. No one would know that their behavior irritated him so they would assume that everything was fine. "Have you ever thought that telling them might help you. If people weren't pissing you off all the time, it would probably help with your anger?"

 

Brian stared at Justin, mulling the words that he spoke around in his mind. "I never thought about it. I usually think people are all about what they want, and they really don't care what you want. Most of my friends could care less if I was mad or not."

 

Justin was unsure how to respond to that statement. He didn't know Brian's friends and he likely would never meet them. An idea came to him. "I'm not here to question your friendships, but let's talk about Gus. I know you care for him a lot; you've decided that he is the reason you are contemplating sobriety. Don't you get mad at him sometimes?"

 

When he heard Gus' name, he bristled. He didn't want his son involved in this part of his life and he resented Justin for bringing him up. When he processed the question, he let out a breath to think. "Sure, I get mad at him. He's at that stage where he is always pushing the limits. He'll be 11 in a month or so and he's definitely showing that preteen angst."

 

Justin was pleased that Brian admitted that he got mad at Gus; now came the critical issue as to what he did with that anger. "What do you do when you get angry at him? Do you tell him or just ignore it?"

 

"I tell him. He's my kid and I don't like being angry at him. Besides, if he does something wrong, he needs to be told so he won't do it again," Brian said. Listening to his response, he said, "Shit. I expect him to tell me he's sorry and I make him tell me what he did wrong so I can be sure he understands."

 

"Okay. So, you expect Gus to change his behavior? You said that there was a friend, I think he works with you, that suggested you get a sponsor. Do you think he would care if you were mad at him? You seem to trust him with your sobriety issues."

 

"Ted. His name is Ted and he's my accountant, but he's also a good friend. When he was using and throwing his life in the toilet, I didn't confront him, but I did tell his boyfriend at the time to leave him. I was pretty angry at what he was doing to his boyfriend and acted to protect him. He works for me now and has watched me yell at the art department a time or three. The art department knows when I'm not happy since I tell them; it is business. I can't be silent and continue to be successful. I have a reputation to uphold and if they aren't bringing their best to the table, they can't continue to work at my company."

 

Justin was pleased with the conversation. "You do tell some people when you are angry. Like Gus and the staff in your art department. Does it change their behavior?" He asked, hoping to help Brian see that telling people about your anger can be productive. 

 

"It helps with Gus, but I often have to tell him a few times. He is testing me to see what I will let him get away with. The art department is a little different. Each situation is different, but they do change what they were doing in that instance; otherwise they wouldn't still be working for me."

 

Justin was pleased with the direction of the conversation. "When we first started talking tonight, you said that yesterday you were having a shitty day and that was why you really wanted the drink last night."

 

Brian nodded his head in agreement. 

 

"Do you think if you had told your friend Michael that you were mad and why it would have lessened your anger? Do you think possibly telling Gus' mom that it made you angry when she was asking about the accident, it would have helped?"

 

Brian took a sip of his coffee as he thought about the question. Shaking his head, he said, "I don't know, but I doubt it. Michael is so self-centered that he probably would just blow it off. He'd probably say something like, ‘You're not serious. How could this make you mad when you know you really don't want to watch Gus.' Lindsay is a little tougher. I'm always worried if I piss her off, she won't let me be with Gus."

 

Justin hadn't expected Brian's answer. He was hopeful that once he pointed out that Brian's anger was directly related to his drinking, he would see he needed to address his anger. To him, the most logical way to do that was to have Brian tell people he was angry. But life was not always easy, and that solution didn't appear to be a viable one at this time.

 

"I understand your fears regarding Gus, so can we go back to your friend Michael. He appears a little safer to tell."

 

Brian finished his coffee and contemplated waiving the waitress to their table for the check as he'd just about reached his limit for talking but decided he was willing to continue the discussion. He wasn't sure what it was about Justin that made him willing to talk but he'd read enough of the Big Book to understand that personal support was critical in maintaining his sobriety. He was beginning to accept that this journey was more about personal introspection and growth than just not taking a drink. No matter how uncomfortable he was with talking and disclosing his life, it was still better than wrapping his car around another tree. 

 

"Yeah. Even if I told Mikey and he didn't believe me, the worst that would happen is that he'd tell Deb. Deb would get her panties in a twist and start ragging on me, but she'd probably listen if I explained. It's just a lot of drama and I really don't know if I want to deal with the drama."

 

"Deb? Who is Deb and why would Michael tell her anything?"

 

"Deb is Michael's mother and perhaps the best way to describe her is she is my surrogate mom," Brian explained. "I spent a lot of my teen years in the Novotny house and she.... Well she's the mom that everyone loves and hates. We love her as a result of her big heart; she takes in all the lost boys, but we hate that she feels she has a right to tell us how to live our lives."

 

"So, telling Michael would, in essence, be telling Debbie and you don't want her telling you how to live your life," Justin said, trying to make sure he understood what Brian was saying.

 

"Right," Brian said in agreement. 

 

"Do you think if you told Michael you were mad; he might do something different the next time?" Justin asked, believing that Brian would benefit from the discussion.

 

"I don't know. As I said, Michael is pretty self-centered." Brian finished his coffee and waved the waitress over to refill his cup. 

 

Justin indicated he wanted a refill as well. Inwardly Justin was pleased that Brian was willing to continue their discussion. "If Michael wouldn't accept your statements that you were mad at his behavior, do you think you have any other options?" 

 

"I don't understand your question. I mean I can't change Michael's behavior. I'm in advertising and even I know the key to success is to make the consumer think they need or want the service or product you are selling. I do that by making it as sexy as hell. Sex sells just about everything," Brian said, evidently very proud of his success. Brian opened three sugar packets and poured them into his coffee, stirring the mixture with his spoon. "I don't think I can spin Mikey not getting me mad about ‘sex'. Even though most of the time we spend together there is an underlying current about getting laid."

 

"Okay. If you don't think Michael will accept your statements because he won't think you are seriously mad, what can you do differently? Like you said, you're in advertising. How would you advertise to yourself? Convince yourself that Michael's actions aren't going to get you mad."

 

Brian was a smart man and realized what Justin was doing. "You're really asking how I can control my anger better. You originally hoped that having me tell people that I was angry, it would lessen the number of times I got mad. Since telling people that I'm mad doesn't appear to be the answer, you want me to figure out how to react differently."

 

Justin nodded his head in agreement. Brian was smart and he understood what Justin was trying to do. "Yes. Each of us has to choose how we react to an event. Some people have car accidents and have PTSD for years while others get right back in the car the next day and drive as nothing happened."

 

Brian said, "It's all about what Jeremy said tonight. You must live in the here and now; don't let having a shitty day be the reason you drink. You make the decision to drink like you would make the decision to have a hamburger. I can't let my desire to drink be a result of something that happened earlier in the day or 5 minutes before." Brian picked up his coffee cup, blew over the top and took a sip. 

 

Justin gave him a huge smile for his efforts. "Exactly. Living in the moment helps lessen the desire to drink to manage our emotions. We should talk about emotions, but I think you've had enough for tonight. I don't want to overload you with too much."

 

Brian was surprised at Justin's smile. He felt like he'd been given a gold star by the teacher. He realized he did see Justin as his teacher and guide in this unique journey. He'd known the man for only a week but in that short time, he'd come to respect him and look forward to their time together, even if it did not result in Brian pinning him to the mattress. While he found him attractive and really wanted to have sex with him, tonight's revelation made him accept that for now, he needed a friend more than he needed someone to suck his cock. It was a unique perspective to spend time with a man that he wasn't going to either talk about sex or have sex with and he was actually enjoying the experience. 

 

"I guess it is time to call it a night. I'm sure you have other things to do," Brian said as he waved the waitress over to provide the bill. She brought the bill, each man paid their portion, and they walked back to their respective cars.

 

"See you tomorrow at the afternoon meeting?" Justin asked, remembering that Brian had a commitment on Sunday evenings. 

 

"Yes," Brian said. He walked the remainder of the lot to his car and drove back to the loft. 

 

Usually, by this time on a Saturday night, I'd be at Woody's drinking and shooting some pool. I don't think I ever really thought if I wanted a drink; it was just there. It was part of the package. You go to Woody's, shoot pool and have a few beers. Then you go to Babylon and have a few more drinks while you scope out the scene and pick up a few tricks. Drinking is as much a part of the experience as dancing. I guess the key is to learn to separate the two activities. 

 

Brian booted up his computer to the familiar web site, trolling for a trick that would meet at least one of his needs. Quickly finding one that fit the bill, he clicked on the picture and made the necessary arrangements. After a few rounds of barely acceptable sex and a blow job, he kicked the trick out. He took a shower and looked at the clock, seeing it was barely 10:00 p.m. He was still mad at Michael and didn't want to hear his whining regarding his whereabouts, so he sat on the couch, flipped on the tv and found an old James Dean movie to occupy his mind until his body was ready for sleep.

 

TBC


	11. Conversations

Sunday morning Brian went to the gym, completed his workout, and then worked at home for a few hours before it was time to go to the AA meeting. He'd been attending meetings for a week now, hardly a habit, but he found he was looking forward to the one today. He'd told Emmett last night about his efforts toward sobriety and Michael had not been pounding on his door this morning demanding entrance and an explanation for the "crazy" idea that Brian was an alcoholic. Evidently, Emmett could keep a secret. Brian had expected that Emmett wouldn't share his information but there was always a small chance that he would give in to his need to gossip.

 

Brian thought about the repercussions of telling Emmett and having additional support in his sobriety journey. All in all, he decided that it might be a way for him to explore a possibly deeper friendship with him. 

He acknowledged that he needed to develop some activities outside of Babylon and Woody's but the thought of hanging with Ted and Blake and listening to Opera didn't quite cut it for him. Hopefully, Emmett had some secret hobby that Brian could explore. 

 

He arrived at the meeting but didn't spot Justin in the small audience. He found a seat and sat for a few moments before taking out his phone with the purpose of texting Justin. Before he could type in his name, Justin sat down next to him. 

 

"Had brunch with my agent and it ran a little long," Justin said. 

 

Brian didn't realize how glad he was that Justin showed up. Before he could reply the moderator spoke. "Hi, I'm Sheila. Thanks for coming today. Our topic today is love and tolerance. What does this mean for an alcoholic? Simply put, it means that we must learn patience and acceptance of people, even though we may be very different. We must learn to accept ourselves and love ourselves before we can accept others. Before I became sober, I didn't feel very connected to people. My family had mostly washed their hands of me as a result of my constant neediness. I was always needing help; I needed a place to crash since I used my money for alcohol instead of rent, or I needed money to pay for gas to get to work. I was let go from so many jobs I lost count. My bosses were tired of dealing with my everyday crises. My managers often told me that I was not worth their time and effort. But then I landed a job that I thought could really be amazing and my boss pulled me aside to give an ultimatum; get sober or get fired. I'd been told that message many times, but this time, for some reason, it stuck. I became sober. I stayed away from my family for a while but then started contacting them just to say hi. I didn't ask for anything and eventually, they reopened their arms. They told me how proud they were of me for getting my life in order and that they loved me. I'm not sure they had ever told me they loved me before I was sober. My boss continually praised my work and I got promoted. Finally, after a long journey, I started to love myself and think I was worthy of people's love and friendship."

 

The other members of the group nodded their head in understanding. They looked at each other and another member started talking. "Hi, I'm Susan. I used to think that everyone I worked with was stupid and incompetent. When I got sober, I realized that there were some competent people there but since I was often hungover and miserable, I didn't notice their worth."

 

Brian listened and thought about his own office. He wondered for a few moments how he might come across to his own employees. He knew he never went to work drunk, but since he was beginning to be honest with himself, he knew that there were many times that he was very hungover when he walked in the door in the morning. He imagined that some employees had opinions about their boss coming to work hungover. 

 

A man who appeared to be in his early 30's spoke next. "I had a few friends when I was drinking. I thought I had a lot of friends, but then I realized that my friends only wanted to be around me because I was the one who usually bought the booze," Peter said. He was clean-shaven and well dressed. "When I got sober, many of them never called or came by to hang out."

 

Brian thought Peter looked like some type of manager at a bank. He stopped himself when he realized that he was doing exactly what the speaker had been talking about. He was judging people without getting to know them. Maybe there was some merit in the not judging department. He thought about his relationship with Michael and how Michael frequently told him about his vision for Brian. ‘You're the stud of Liberty Avenue. You'll always be young and beautiful.' Brian wondered if he had just allowed Michael to feed him this line as a result of Michael's own insecurities. Was Michael hanging out with him and living vicariously? Brian put those questions in his ‘to think about file'. It seemed that there were more ideas in the file since he'd begun his journey into sobriety. He was examining his life, his friends, and his activities. He heard Justin's voice and tuned back into the meeting.

 

"Hi, I'm Justin. I agree that an important part of the journey is loving yourself. When my dad kicked me out of the house for being gay, I didn't think I was worthy. I drowned my feelings in a bottle of Vodka. When I was drunk, I thought everybody liked me," Justin said.

 

Brian knew Justin was gay; Justin had turned him down when he wanted to have sex with him at their first meeting. He had a difficult time thinking Justin was unworthy as in the short time he'd known him he'd been able to get Brian to open up and share information about his life. Justin appeared very capable of holding his own in the sobriety department and at this point in Brian's life, that was worthy in and of itself.

 

"Hi, I'm Karen. I used to look in the mirror in the morning and see my bloodshot eyes and pallid skin and ask myself why I did this to my body. I would then have a little conversation with myself that nobody really cared about me so why should I care about myself. Then one day I collapsed at work, Pancreatitis."

 

Murmurs of "oh" and "mmm" were heard around the circle. 

 

"Landed me in the hospital and they called my daughter, my emergency contact. When she got there, she told me that she was pregnant and wanted me to be there for my grandchild but if I continued to drink that wasn't going to happen. She told me she loved me and wanted me around. I realized that I was wanted and that I could be an important person in my daughter and grandchild's life. That was 5 years ago. Now I have a wonderful granddaughter who loves me and a family that I now spend time with regularly," Karen said as she looked around the small circle and smiled at the members who were smiling back while nodding their heads at the positive story.

 

A few more people shared their take on the topic and Brian sat and listened. Each person who told their story seemed to feel that their lives were better and that their relationships with people had improved once they stopped drinking. The more he listened, the more his brain went down multiple paths as he explored his own life.

 

"Thank you for coming. Enjoy the rest of the weekend. As always coffee is in the back and I hope to see everyone next week. Remember, sobriety is a way of life and we have only one life to live," Sheila said.

 

Brian and Justin walked back to the coffee station and each prepared a Styrofoam cup of coffee. Without any words, they walked to a corner where they were away from the group.

 

"A big part of recovery is sharing your thoughts and experiences. You haven't said anything in the group since the first day when you told your story," Justin said. He blew on his coffee, hoping to cool it down enough so he could take a sip.

 

"I have so many thoughts running through my head, I can't seem to finish one. I get these thoughts and when I start to follow it to its conclusion, another thought pops up, then when I try to follow it, a third one pops up," Brian said. 

 

"Even if you can't finish the thought, it's still good to share your experiences in the group. Just talking about events helped me make sense of things in my life," Justin said, and then took a tentative sip of his coffee. "I do love a good cup of coffee and I think if there was a universal drink, it would be coffee." Justin smiled and motioned toward the door. "It's a nice day, do you want to take a short walk? I often find that talking is easier if I'm doing something else."

 

Brian looked at the clock on the wall and saw the time was 3:15. "Sure, I've already been to the gym and I don't have to be at Deb's until 5:00."

 

They walked outside waiting to talk until they were clear of the group. 

 

"I was watching you during the meeting today and saw you nodding your head in agreement with a lot of the speakers. From what you've told me, I think you identified with many of the stories," Justin said, not wanting to ask about a specific situation. He hoped Brian would take the ball and run with it if he couched it in this manner.

 

"Yeah, I did. I think I identified with almost all of them. I never got Pancreatitis and my dad didn't kick me out of the house because I was gay, but the other stories, yeah, some of them hit home. Actually, the part about coming out to my father; that would have been hard to do since I didn't tell him until he was dying. He told me it should have been me dying. Great guy, wasn't he?"

 

"That's terrible," Justin said, unable to imagine someone telling him that he should be dying instead of themselves.

 

"My father was a drunk and he used to use me as his personal punching bag. I left home when I graduated high school." Brian frowned and while Justin was walking next to him, he caught the grimace in the corner of his eye.

 

"There's more to that story," Justin said, encouraging Brian to share information about his early life. He hoped that sharing would help him see some patterns that he could point out to Brian. He wanted to help Brian in his journey but needed to understand more of his history to help him identify his triggers for drinking.

 

"The whole love and acceptance are a hard pill to swallow when you're used as a punching bag and money machine." Brian stopped as they had come to a crosswalk and the light was red. The streets were not very busy since it was Sunday but there were enough cars that he wasn't going to disobey the traffic signal.

 

"Peter made a comment about friends and buying booze. Well, I must be the poster child for that con. My dad would come around when I started working. I'm not really sure how he heard about my success because he sure didn't seem like a guy who would read a newspaper or listen to the news. He probably heard it from one of his union friends. Some of those guys actually followed the news or listened to it on the radio or tv. Anyway, he would show up at my loft, asking me to come to join him at the union hall. He wanted to show off his successful son to his union buddies. But every time we would go, he wanted me to buy the booze. That was his way of showing how successful I was. He would even brag to his buddies that his successful son was now treating his father."

 

"I often wonder why I continued to associate with him. He beat me up a lot when I was a kid, and I left home at the first opportunity, vowing to never look back. Yet, when he would come around to my loft and ask me to go grab a drink, I'd always say yes. After the first few times, I knew that it was only to show off how successful I was to his union buddies. I guess he was trying to prove to himself that he had something to do with my success, which of course was pure bull shit. But I continued to go and buy his booze and give him money. What the fuck?" 

 

Brian stopped at the crosswalk and waited for the car to pass through the intersection. He was slightly amazed that he had shared that information with Justin, practically a stranger, but stopped short of truly analyzing the situation. Justin had encouraged him to talk about his life. He knew that Justin was trying to get him to open up and work on his sobriety. For some reason that he wasn't willing to scrutinize too closely, he accepted that telling the truth about his life experience was important in this journey. He just hoped that he would not have to share all this information with ‘the gang'. 

 

"These days, I buy at least one round of drinks for Michael on any given night. It's something I've always done. He just assumes the first round is on me." Brian paused when he finished the statement. "I never thought about buying Mikey's drinks in that way. Another thing to put in the ‘to be thought about file'. I wonder if that is why he is so insistent that I return to Babylon?"

 

"Do you think that your friendship with Michael is based on your supplying his booze?" Justin asked, wondering about the answer to his question. If that were true, Brian would really need some help in developing his social group.

 

"No," Brian said, not hesitating at all with his response. "Mikey and I go back to high school. I met him when my family moved to the area. He was getting picked on because he was so short and such a geek. I stood up for him and told the bullies to stay away or they would have to deal with me. I was a jock and the star of the soccer team; therefore, I was respected, and no one messed with me."

 

"So, you felt sorry for him and protected him. That was very nice of you. Sounds like you haven't outgrown the need to protect him and take care of him. It's nice of you to buy his drinks every time you meet."

 

Brian thought about Justin's observations and said, "That sounds kind of degrading. Sort of like my father did to me. ‘Hey look everyone. I am the successful Brian Kinney and I can afford to buy my friend, Mikey a drink since he is not as flush as I am.' 

 

"Why do you feel that way?"

 

"I am more successful," Brian said.

 

"So, everyone who is more successful should buy their friend's drinks?" Justin asked, pushing Brian to think about his statement and his thinking process.

 

"No, of course not. That would be stupid. There would be people who would always be paying and then there would be people who would never pay. Life doesn't work that way. There is always going to be one person who is better off than another." Brian didn't want to walk too far from the community center and looked around spying a small park to their right.

 

"Let's head to the park. I don't want to walk too far away from the center and have to jog back to my car in order to get to Deb's on time."

 

"Sure," Justin said and crossed the street to walk towards the park. 

 

It was a nice spring day; the temperatures were in the low 70's and a light breeze blew. There were several baseball diamonds and it appeared that there were teams practicing in three of them. Further down the path were several soccer fields and they were occupied as well with players who appeared to be practicing. To the far right, there was a playground filled with children playing on the slides, swings, and in the sandbox. Parents sat on the park benches that surrounded the area as they watched their children run, jump, and laugh while they enjoyed the equipment and the freedom from responsibility. 

 

Brian smiled at a young boy whose soccer ball was kicked in their path. He stopped by the ball and kicked it toward him. 

 

"Thanks, mister," the little red-headed boy said as he kicked the ball back toward the field. 

 

"Brian, why do you really buy Michael his drinks? You just said that it wouldn't make sense to have the person with the most money always buying the drinks."

 

They walked down the path and found a park bench. Brian motioned for Justin to sit on the bench and he joined him. "He's my friend."

 

"Do you buy your other friends drinks?"

 

"No. Of course not," Brian said, somewhat surprised at the question. "Why would I buy them drinks, they buy their own."

 

"So why do you buy Michael his drinks?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"You seem to have a complicated relationship with Michael. You do things for him that you would not do for your other friends, but he doesn't seem to respect your choices. You said that you told him twice that you weren't going to Babylon and yet he barged into your home, walked into your bedroom without your permission, and then proceeded to tell you that his mom was coming over to watch your son so you could spend time with him at Babylon. When I asked you if you could talk to him about being mad at him, you stated that he probably wouldn't believe you. You've chosen to keep him in the dark regarding your efforts toward sobriety, but you have told several other people. I just wonder what you get out of his friendship?"

 

"You really do come up with the hard questions?" Brian said as he thought about Justin's speech.

 

"They're not hard, but hopefully thought-provoking. We were talking about love and tolerance today at the meeting. Your friend doesn't seem to be very tolerant of your decisions and I wonder why you are friends. Even if you were not exploring sobriety, have you thought about Michael's place in your life?" Justin really wanted to reach out and touch Brian's hand, give it a squeeze, and show his support during this awkward conversation but understood that was crossing the line. "It sounds like you had a rough childhood. You still have ambivalent thoughts about your father, especially as an adult when he tried to parade you to his friends as his great achievement as a parent. It appears that your childhood left some deep scars regarding your love of yourself. Perhaps Michael's friendship helps to fill that need for love?"

 

"So, you are saying that since I had a shitty childhood and my father punched me around, I turned to Michael for that love. As an adult, I accept whatever he does because he loves me?"

 

"It's an observation. You are the one who has to decide if it is correct," Justin said. 

 

"But what if you're right? I let Michael stay in my life because he loves me, no matter how he treats me. It'd be another version of my dad, without the abuse," Brian said, putting his forefinger and thumb on the bridge of his nose.

 

"Abuse can come in many forms. Emotional abuse is just as detrimental as physical abuse. In fact, many people discount emotional abuse because it cannot be measured," Justin said. He'd done a lot of reading and investigation when he first became sober. "My father was an emotional abuser. He treated my mom horribly, cheating on her and expecting her to just accept what he did since he paid the bills. He belittled her at every opportunity and told her that the only contribution she made to the marriage was to look pretty and attend business functions with him. He needed to have a wife on his arm to be accepted at the country club. My mom put up with it for a long time, but then when he kicked me out, she decided that was enough and she left too. She took my sister and started her life over. She is now a very successful realtor." Justin had carried his coffee cup with him and took the last drink. He looked around for a trash can and saw one over by the pavilion, a few feet away. He motioned toward the can with his hand and said, "I'm going to throw my cup away. Are you done with yours?"

 

Brian handed him the cup and watched as Justin walked to the can and threw their cups away. He thought about Justin's last question. Justin came back to the bench and waited for Brian to answer his last question. After a few minutes, he decided to couch the thought in another way.

 

"You have to decide if Michael's behavior toward you is acceptable. From what you say, you feel like you owe him for his family's friendship in your youth. They were a safe haven for you and you really needed that safe space. But now that you are an adult, it appears that Michael is using that history as grounds for friendship. It appears that you aren't really sure why you maintain the friendship, except out of habit."

 

Brian listened to Justin, nodding his head in agreement with the statements. "You sure you are an artist and not a Psychologist or something?"

 

"No, not a Psychologist, but I have read a lot about people. People fascinate me. I love to hear their stories and histories. It is amazing when you take two people who have lived through the same event and ask them about it, and you get two very different stories. Each person sees the event through their own experiences. I bet if you asked Michael why he came to your home the other night, he would have a very good reason. Your view of his visit was anger at his inability to respect your wishes. His view was probably something along the lines of finding a solution to your problem of watching your son and being unable to go out. Both of you see the same situation in very different terms. Neither of you is right nor wrong, it's just a different point of view. But I'm asking you to think about what you want from your friendship with Michael."

 

"I'll have to think about that one. Deb, his mom is the quasi matriarch of our little family. If I cut my ties with Michael, I would hurt Deb."

 

Justin nodded his head understanding. "Deb is important to you and you don't want to hurt her feelings. If you stop having Michael in your life, Deb is going to be mad at you. Sounds like a very difficult situation."

 

Brian smiled. "You sure you don't have a degree in Psychology? As much as I enjoy the soul-searching questions you throw my way, I must head out. Time for the weekly Sunday dinner at Deb's. I can't wait to hear Michael whine about not spending time with him. I guess I'm going to have to figure something out. I'm not ready for Babylon or Woody's but I don't want to listen to him whine indefinitely.

 

"You coming to the meeting tomorrow night?" Justin asked as he stood up to walk back to the lot where their cars were parked.

 

"Should be good to go. I've got some business meetings later this week so I'm going to have to think about those days," Brian said. He felt a little chill go through his body when he thought about missing a meeting and the support from Justin. He also stood up and walked toward his car.

 

They reached the parking lot and said their goodbyes.

 

Brian drove to Deb's; his head was now filled with more half thoughts than it did on the way to the AA meeting. He hoped that this was not going to be the norm; he was used to solving his problems quick and fast and didn't like the feeling.

 

TBC


	12. The Road Less Taken

Brian drove to Deb's, thinking about his talk with Justin. _Why am I friends with Michael? Is he really my friend or do we hang out just because we always have? I love Gus. I'd do anything for him, but do I love anyone else, including myself? Why did I tell Emmett, and will he keep his word about my AA meetings? Why, why, why?_

 

Brian arrived and was slightly agitated by his numerous thoughts. He liked his life better when he wasn't thinking about every move. But before he allowed his brain to go down that path, he acknowledged that he actually enjoyed parts of his sobriety. He liked having a specific place to go every night. He was beginning to enjoy waking up without feeling his head pounding, or like he had been hit by a truck. He liked the feeling of being able to open his eyes in the morning without feeling that they were filled with sand. On the other hand, he didn't really know what to do with himself in the evenings. After his meetings, it was still early, and he had several hours stretched in front of him without his normal past time of shooting pool and/or picking up tricks. Of course, there was the issue of picking up tricks. He wasn't fond of trolling for guys on the internet, but if he was getting his needs met, he wouldn't really think about that situation. 

 

Sitting in the car for several minutes, he watched Deb's front door as the family walked in. Emmett wore a pair of tangerine pants with a purple silky top, looking like he might have stepped out of a 70's movie. Ted and Blake walked side by side and were laughing at something. They kissed each other on the cheek before walking into Deb's house. No one seemed to notice that he was sitting across the street and not getting out of his car. He didn't want to think about the reason for their lack of acknowledgment. As he watched the front door, he was started by a knock on his driver's side window. 

 

Turning toward the noise, Brian noticed Gus. He rolled down the window. "Hey, Sonny Boy."

 

"Dad. Why are you sitting in your car? Are you okay? I know you like to make an entrance and be fashionably late to most things, but this is Sunday dinner. You don't have to impress anyone here," Gus said as he reached for the car door. 

 

"Just thinking about a lot of things. I'm fine. Let's go inside. I'm sure Debbie has a huge pan of Lasagna with enough cheese and garlic bread to meet my carb limits at least three times over."

 

"Dad. You crack me up. You are one of the thinnest people I know and yet you act like food is your enemy. You can eat carbs all day, but you gotta do it in moderation. We studied nutrition in class last week. Did you know that carbs have 4 calories, the same as protein? In fact,..."

 

"Gus. It is true that carbs and protein have the same number of calories, but your body processes them differently," Brian responded as they walked to the door. Before he could continue his conversation, Michael opened the door and gave him a kiss on the lips. 

 

"There you are. I was beginning to think you were going to blow us off like you have the last few weeks. I haven't seen you in ages," Michael said as he ushered father and son into the small living room.

 

"Michael, I just saw you on Friday. In fact, I saw you twice; once at my office and the second time when you barged into my loft insisting that I go with you to Babylon. Since today is Sunday, I don't think that two days constitutes ages. True, I didn't make it to breakfast at the diner this morning, but I was in the middle of my workout and I think you would appreciate me keeping my sweaty body at the gym rather than at your breakfast table," Brian said, tongue in cheek. He could feel his body tensing at the accusation. His anger was building up, but before he could react, Deb broke in.

 

"Michael Charles Novotny leave Brian alone. It doesn't matter what did or didn't happen. Brian was here last week and he's here to spend time with everyone now. Let's not spend time discussing what he did or didn't do. You can't change what happened. Let's enjoy Sunday dinner. Now, why don't you help me get the Lasagna out of the oven? It is pretty heavy," Deb said as she headed to the kitchen, not waiting for an answer, but expecting Michael to follow her.

 

Brian listened to Deb's statement to Michael and wondered if she had ever said those words to him before. He remembered Peter's words to live in the present, not the past. You can't change the past, but you do have control over your present and future. As far as he knew Deb was not a recovering alcoholic. She drank an occasional glass of wine with Sunday dinner and he's seen her drink a beer or two at Woody's. But he'd never seen her drunk. Yet, she was sending the same message to Michael that he'd heard in the AA meeting. Before he could ponder that thought any further, she called everyone to dinner.

 

"Brian, where were you this morning? You never miss Sunday brunch," Michael asked ignoring Deb's instruction to not worry about the past.

 

"I told you, Michael, I was at the gym. Are you getting old and forgetting what I said to you just 10 minutes ago?" Brian asked, somewhat tongue in cheek. He took a sip of his water. He made a point of putting water in his wine glass, hoping it would draw less attention to him not drinking any wine.

 

Emmett wasn't sure where Brian had been this morning, but he thought he might have been attending an AA meeting. Brian would not give up his work out and most likely would not forego Sunday dinner, so it seemed to reason that if he wanted to attend a meeting, he would have to give up something else and Sunday brunch seemed logical. Since he would see the whole family at Deb's, he would be able to do all the things that were important. 

 

"So, Gus, I understand you had a birthday party yesterday. How was it?" Emmett asked, hoping to change the subject of Brian's whereabouts this morning.

 

"How'd you know he had a birthday party?" Melanie asked, slightly suspicious that Emmett knew about the event.

 

"Gus and Brian often eat at the diner on Saturday nights before he takes him home, but last night Brian was by himself. I asked him where Gus was and he told me about the party," Emmett said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed the napkin back on his lap.

 

"Oh," said Melanie.

 

"So, Gus, how was your party?" Emmett repeated his question.

 

"Cool. We went to a new trampoline place. I got to jump on trampolines and there was an arcade we got to play in too. Afterward, we had chocolate and white cake. I'd love to have a trampoline party." Turning toward his mothers, he looked at them with pleading eyes. "Can I have a trampoline party for my birthday?"

 

"No," said Mel.

 

"We'll see," said Lindsay.

 

Brian did not say anything. He knew whatever party the girls decided was acceptable would be discussed and then they would hit him up for the cost of the shindig. He realized again that he provided a lot of money to them for Gus and yet anytime there was an unusual expense such as a birthday, new cleats for soccer, or even new clothes for school, they claimed they did not have the money. He was beginning to think that they just saw him as the Bank of Kinney. He hadn't really thought about the issue much, but now that he was thinking a little clearer these days, he was beginning to question many areas of his life. He didn't care about the money; he had plenty, but he did not like the uncertainty regarding his visits with his son.

 

Thankfully, Michael did not ask Brian again where he'd been. The dinner conversation ranged from the new class Lindsay was trying to get started at the GLC, and the difficulties she was encountering from the board to the latest gossip on Liberty Avenue. As usual, Brian did not contribute much to the discussion but found himself listening to everyone's sharing of their everyday lives. He took a quick inventory of his life the last couple of weeks, and the only thing of note was his attendance at AA meetings. He really did not want to share that information; besides, they were called anonymous for a reason. He doubted that the "gang" would want to enter a philosophical conversation about love and tolerance or living in the moment. 

 

When dinner was over everyone helped Deb clean up and put away the folding chairs. Brian looked at the group of people in attendance and thought about his relationship with each of them. Deciding that for the most part, the connection was one he enjoyed, he felt an unusual calm come over him. He had begun doubting what his life would look like without Babylon and Woody's, and now saw that truly there was more substance to his life than he had realized. 

 

Michael and his husband Ben left first, stating that Ben had some papers to grade and a lecture to prepare for. Gus and his mothers left next as Gus had to get to sleep since Monday was a school day. That left Emmett, Debbie and Blake and Ted sitting in the living room. 

 

"Brian, honey, are you okay? You seem awfully quiet today," Debbie asked as she picked up a glass on the table that had been missed by the gang in their quick clean up. She eyed the glass of wine at the table seeing there was just a little left in the bottom. Not one to waste anything, she picked it up and tilted the bottle toward Brian, knowing that Ted and Blake wouldn't drink any and Emmett was usually a cocktail drinker. 

 

"Want to finish this off? There is just a little left and I hate for the bottle to take up room in the fridge," she asked Brian.

 

All the men looked at Brian knowing that he shouldn't drink it but wondering if he was going to decline and give Deb a reason for not drinking. Deb noticed the looks they gave Brian and quickly deduced their meaning. She quickly reviewed the evening and visually remembered that Brian had put water in his wine glass. She remembered thinking to herself that it was odd but had decided to not push the subject at the time. 

 

"That's why you haven't been to Babylon or Woody's and my son is having ten fits that he hasn't seen you?" She said, without stating her actual deduction out loud. She walked into the kitchen and placed the bottle in the door of the fridge and then returned with a fresh bottle of water for herself.

 

She came into the living room and kissed Brian on the cheek, smudging off the residual lipstick. "Brian, honey... Is the cancer back? Is that why you can't drink? From the looks that these guys gave you, they know what's up." Debbie asked solicitously. She remembered how Michael fell apart when he heard that Brian had cancer. It had been over 5 years, and she thought the 5-year mark was the critical one regarding recurrence.

 

Brian toyed with his response. He really hadn't planned on telling anyone else. He was already questioning why he told Emmett. He understood why he told Blake and Ted; Ted worked for him and he'd been a real support when he'd battled cancer. It was unlikely that he could keep anything this significant from Ted, especially since Ted knew about the car and his accident. Emmett, it seemed, had caught him in a moment of weakness and vulnerability. He was feeling a little sorry for himself, although he would never admit to that feeling. He was sad that Gus had not spent the remainder of the day with him and he was questioning his "new" life. Recognizing that he needed to develop new routines had begun to concern him as he was at a loss how to fill his time with activities that would not have him rushing for the nearest bottle out of sheer boredom. But telling Debbie, his mom would be an entirely different level of disclosure. 

 

On the one hand, he didn't want to lie to her, but on the other hand, he didn't want all of Liberty Avenue to know that Brian Fucking Kinney was an alcoholic. While he had his doubts about telling Emmett, he knew that Emmett would probably not tell anyone. Debbie was a loose cannon. She might have every intention of keeping quiet, but if she said anything or even hinted to a secret that she had, there could be dire consequences. He needed a little more sobriety under his belt before he tackled disclosure to her.

 

"Debbie, I don't really want to talk about it. I will tell you I'm not sick and the cancer is not back," he said, hoping that would placate her for the moment.

 

"Brian Aiden Kinney, I know there is something going on, but I can see you are not ready to tell me what it is. I'm here whenever you are ready to talk," she said. Turning to the other men, she said, "I know that there is something going on and I know that the three of you know what it is. I am trusting you to tell me if the need arises." She turned her head to look at each man separately and made sure they saw her look of determination. 

 

Brian stood up and walked over to Debbie. "I'm fine," he said as he bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. 

She reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Take care of yourself," she said.

 

Brian walked toward the door. The other men walked close behind him and all four left Debbie's. Brian walked toward his car and Ted caught up to him before he got there.

 

"Bri..."

 

"Theodore."

 

"She's going to ask again. She won't give up until you tell her," Ted said. He watched Blake walk to their car and quietly talk to Emmett. 

 

"I know. I just can't handle her version of love right now. I can see it now. She will envelop me in a huge hug and tell me everything will be okay. Then she'll cry and kiss me and then I'll try to make her feel better. And I just can't do that right now. I need all my energy for me. I can't worry that she will tell all of Liberty Avenue. I can't worry that Lindsay will find out through the gay grapevine that I'm in AA. She knows I drink but she'll take that information and twist it around. She won't let me see Gus. I can't do that Ted."

 

Ted listened and was a little surprised at Brian's confession. Brian was not one to discuss his thoughts or his feelings. He thought that the AA meetings were the cause of this new development. He was happy for his boss but knew he had a long way to go. 

 

"I'm here for you, boss," Ted said as he laid his hand on Brian's shoulder and squeezed hard.

 

Brian nodded his head and opened the car door, getting in and looking at Deb's house. He briefly thought about his words to Ted and was slightly amazed at the truth in them. He realized that all the half-thoughts he'd been juggling in his head all day were jelling into solid ideas. He knew he had to tell Debbie and he would have to tell Lindsay. He'd have to tell them, admit he had a problem with alcohol, and admit that he was imperfect. But he wasn't going to do it today and it wouldn't happen tomorrow or maybe even the next day. But someday and someday soon, he would have to have those conversations. 

 

He put the car in gear and drove back to his loft. Entering the room, he saw the liquor cabinet, its bottles filled with amber liquid that would numb his pain, blot out the day to day concerns and help him drift into oblivion. He walked toward the cabinet, wanting badly to ease his discomfort, but turned toward the living area and the couch instead. Today, in this moment, he was choosing not to drink. He'd made other choices today and he questioned them, but this one, he was certain of. He wasn't going to fill his body with the amber liquid, feel its burn as it traveled down his throat and into his bloodstream. He wouldn't choose oblivion, not today.

 

TBC


	13. My Son Gus

Brian sat on the couch, flipping through Adweek and trying to stay focused on its content. When he reached the end of the magazine, he realized he had absolutely no idea what he'd read. He flipped back to the front of the magazine and started reading the article again. When he got to the end, he stopped and closed his eyes trying to remember what he'd read. When he couldn't remember three key points in the article, he decided that reading was fruitless and turned on the tv. He flipped through the channels and couldn't find anything that remotely interested him. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was only 9:00 pm.

 

Shit. It is fucking 9:00. I can't fucking read a magazine without my mind wandering and there isn't shit on tv. I can't fucking drink or go to Babylon or Woody's. What the fuck kind of life is this? This is bullshit!!

 

Despite the negative self-talk, he couldn't move off the couch to remedy his indecision. He took several deep breaths. He remembered the speaker from the other night talking about calming the mind and meditating to help a person do that. He allowed his mind to wander and follow one of his many half-formed ideas that had been rolling around it all day. He latched on to his son, Gus. Gus was important to him and when he didn't get to spend the whole day with him as planned, he realized he was angry. He was angry that a birthday party trumped his visit and he was angry that Lindsay hadn't suggested a different weekend or additional time. He thought about the lack of alternatives, or rather, her decision to not offer them to him and he realized that she most likely didn't offer them since historically he would have never accepted. He continued to let his mind ponder the subject of Gus. He thought about Lindsay's anger at his late arrival when he returned him from their visit and he thought about her waffling attitude when it came to his visits with Gus. On the one hand, she pushed him to be a part of Gus' life, but on the other hand, she balked when he wanted to spend more time with Gus. She also seemed to push most of the financial responsibilities for Gus as Brian's contribution, even though he wasn't allowed to spend time with Gus at will. Is she really keeping Gus away from me or is it that she just assumes that I wouldn't be interested in seeing more of him, as I'm too busy with my life? What would my ideal situation be, as far as Gus is concerned? Would I really want him more than one weekend a month? If he was here, what would I do with him? He thought back to this weekend and the ease of spending time with his son. They rarely had an agenda. Gus pretty much dictated what he wanted to do and Brian let him do it unless it was unreasonable. He'd heard some of his employees talk in the break room about having "their kid" for the weekend. They talked about taking them to some special exhibit at the zoo or to a new movie opening. It appeared that they were trying to give the kid some super memorable experience since they didn't spend a lot of time with them.

 

He planned his day at work and lately he had to plan when and where he would attend an AA meeting but he didn't want to live his life with a rigid schedule. He liked the spontaneity of his time with Gus and never felt like he had to play the role of "super father". Gus never seemed bored and they always found stuff to do, even if it was just going down to Michael's shop to pick up the latest edition of "Avengers".

 

But now, he was beginning to question that model. He now had vast amounts of time where he didn't have commitments. He realized that in the past when he had free time he would usually just go to Woody's or Babylon to occupy himself. Those two places were off his radar for the present time, and he was just now beginning to realize how much of his time was spent at those establishments. Should he increase his time with Gus, and if so, would it be so spontaneous or should he find another outlet for his time? Of course, he realized that he could do both. What would his life look life once sobriety really kicked in? He would still go work out, go to the diner on Sunday morning and to Debbie's on Sunday night. He could talk to Lindsay about seeing Gus during the week or having him more than one weekend a month. 

 

He wanted to be more involved in Gus' life. Maybe if he was more involved he'd have a better handle on where the money went that he gave Lindsay. Money really wasn't a concern, but access to Gus was something he wanted. He'd been giving her money for a decade and yet his access to his son was very limited. He'd never really thought about asking for more time with his son, but now that he had more free time, it made sense. He couldn't fit him in during the evenings, not with him attending his AA meetings every night. But he could see him more often during the weekend. He'd start with that. He wasn't sure if she would say yes, but if he told her about a specific event- a movie opening or soccer game that he wanted to take Gus to, she'd probably say yes without hesitation. Brian felt a sense of accomplishment; he'd finally let one of his jumbled thoughts result in a decision. He let out a deep breath as he felt his body relax. Opening his eyes, he saw that it was now almost 11:00, definitely late enough to go to sleep. Moving to the bedroom, he readied himself for sleep and slept through the night.

 

In the morning he arrived at work at 8:00, choosing to avoid the diner and hopefully Michael. Ted's light was on and he walked over to his door, walking in without knocking. Hearing someone enter, Ted looked up to see Brian standing in the doorway.

 

"Bri... Can I help you?" He was surprised to see his boss standing at his doorway. Usually, he went to Brian's office.

 

"Do you know a good lawyer?"

 

Ted blinked and looked at Brian. A million scenarios crossed his mind, none of them positive. "Are you in some kind of trouble? Do you need anything? Is the cancer back?"

 

Brian smiled, tongue in cheek, realizing that he had put his CFO in a tailspin just by asking a question. "No, no and no. I want to talk to a family lawyer. I want to know my rights regarding Gus." Brian did not want to go into details about his desire to see Gus more but he knew that Ted would need at least this basic information so that he could track down a lawyer that would meet Brian's needs.

 

"Oh. Well, glad to hear that you're okay. Do you want me to set up an appointment or do you want just the name?"

 

Brian hadn't really thought that far into his quest. He knew he wanted to be more involved in Gus' life, but the logistics of when he wanted to pursue his quest was still in the beginning stages. He thought about his AA meetings and their motto of living in the moment. He'd obviously been listening to the leaders as he hadn't really taken the time to question his showing up at Ted's door. "Set an appointment. Just look at my calendar and make sure I have plenty of time to talk to the lawyer. I'm not sure how long this type of thing takes."

 

"Ok. I'll get right on it," Ted said. His boss was changing before his eyes and he was excited for him. He had told Brian that he would need to rethink his life and make changes. He watched Brian interact with Gus every Sunday and he knew that Brian adored the little boy. He thought it was great that Brian wanted to investigate his legal avenues regarding Gus. He was fairly certain that Brian had no intention of having Gus full time, but at this point nothing would surprise him.

 

Brian walked to his office, booted up his computer, and started his day. He reviewed several emails that had landed in his inbox since Friday and quickly scrolled through his LinkedIn feed, He looked at his calendar and saw he had a conference call at 10:00. Pulling up the file for the client, he reviewed the latest conversation they'd had and checked up on the status of their current campaign. His day was busy and he really hadn't had time to contemplate his conversation with Ted that morning. 

 

It was close to 5:00 when Ted knocked on Brian's door and without looking up from the file on his desk, Brian bade him to enter. 

 

"Got a few names for you. Wasn't sure which way you wanted to take the situation with Gus, but here are your choices. 

 

You can talk with a lawyer who deals in custody issues. Not sure that is what you were after, but it seems that custody is a specialty in and of itself. 

You can talk with a lawyer who will discuss legal issues regarding support and your rights. Since you give Lindsay and Melanie a lot of money for Gus, you appear to have rights to see him and the fact that they appear to limit your interaction could result in legal issues.

The other choice is a lawyer who deals with things like education, health care and other areas that you might feel are not in alignment with how you want Gus raised.

If you give me a clearer picture of what you are seeking, then I can check your calendar and make an appointment for a consultation."

 

"Shit. Who knew jerking off into a cup could become so fucking complicated. I think option 2, my legal rights since I support him financially, and would want a lawyer who specializes in that area. Make the call and let me know when the appointment is. Put it on my calendar, but also tell me." Brian looked at his watch and realized he needed to leave so he could change and get to his AA meeting on time. "Gotta go. I need to change and get across town by 7:45."

 

Ted nodded his head in understanding, guessing that Brian wanted to get to a meeting and he had chosen to go across town where there was little chance of anyone seeing him. He was proud of Brian, but he wouldn't tell him right now. Brian was working the program, going to meetings, and was managing to stay away from temptation in the form of Woody's and Babylon. Ted knew that in some ways the early part of recovery was tricky. It was hard to stay away as the pull of the liquor or drug was still pretty strong but as time went on, often the person lost their resolve deluding themselves that one little drink or one snort wouldn't make that much difference. Sobriety was never easy and it was especially hard for someone like Brian whose life appeared to revolve around drinking.


	14. The 64,000 Question

Brian went home, showered, changed, and arrived at the AA meeting before it was supposed to start. Spotting Justin, he sat down and said, "Hi."

 

"Hi," Justin said as he smiled at Brian. "Long day? Wasn't sure you were going to make it. It's almost 8:00."

 

"I'm here," Brian wasn't ready to tell Justin about his conversation with Ted. He wanted some firm information before he discussed it. He was not one who had conversations on speculations.

 

The speaker welcomed everyone to the group and asked if there was anyone new there. Brian had been attending AA for a little over a week and for some reason, he didn't remember anyone ever asking that question. He thought about the question and realized that he must not have been paying attention as it was a logical question and he was sure he would never have talked at that first meeting without a little prompting from a question like that. 

 

When no one raised their hand, the speaker said, "Tonight I'd like to talk about social outlets. When I was drinking, I had a set of friends I always drank with and we would plan our activities around which bar we would hang out at after work. They would have a few drinks and go home, but I would stay for a long time after they left and drink for hours. When I became sober, I quickly realized that my entire social structure was built around drinking. At work, we talked about drinking and after work, we drank. I couldn't exactly quit my job, but I had to figure out a way to stay friends with my co-workers without drinking. Can someone share how they handled friendships when they got sober?"

 

"Hi, my name is Mary. I had a similar problem. My co-workers had no idea that I stayed at the bar for hours after they left. I was always telling them that I was meeting someone a little later, and I was just going to hang out at the bar until it was time to go. Of course, I never had anyone to meet. By the time I left the bar at night, I was too drunk to hold a conversation with anyone. One day, I wondered if would my co-workers would even socialize with me if I didn't go out drinking with them. I suggested we set up a movie night instead of going drinking. A few of them said no, but the rest said yes. We all agreed on a movie and then went to dinner afterward. Since it was later in the evening, we all had appetizers and then went home. I enjoyed myself. Of course, the next night they went to the bar again, but I decided to do something different. We go out about once a week and see a movie, so it turned out okay."

 

"Hi, my name is Tom. I know, most of you are thinking why is that kid in here. I started drinking when I was 14. When I think back on it, I really don't know what possessed me to drink, but for a long time, that was what I did. I had friends in high school and we got together to drink. We'd brag in the morning how much liquor we consumed and on Mondays, it was a big deal to brag about the parties we went to and how shitfaced we got. One night my best friend and I went to a party and got drunk. I drove home. We crashed. We both survived, but he has a brain injury from being thrown out of the car. That woke me up. I was 18, and I knew I needed to change my life, or that would be me. My friends still continued to drink and weren't interested in other activities, so I was on my own to fill my time. I hadn't done really well in school, mostly because I was drinking and not studying. I went back to school, got my GED, and now I'm in college. I've met a lot of people and actually gotten to make some good friends. When all your conversations surround drinking, it doesn't bode well to the types of people you connect with.

 

The members of the group all clapped after Tom's story. It was always great to hear about someone who had literally turned his life around. Justin watched Brian during the meeting. He'd done a little more reading about sponsors and realized that part of the role of sponsorship was to encourage the sponsoree to share. Many sponsors encouraged this process out of the group since it felt safer, especially early on in recovery. Once the addict had some success at sobriety and was starting to work the steps, oftentimes they opened up in meetings. Justin knew that Brian had friends but he wanted to know a little more about their friendships.

 

"Hi, I'm Bob. I think everyone has friends that they drink with. I think it is the fate of the alcoholic to decide if the friends he drinks with can be friends without alcohol. I drank with my colleagues after work, just like you Mary. But then, I'd go home and have a cocktail with my wife, wine with dinner, an after-dinner drink and of course, I would have a drink or three while I was watching TV. I can't exactly stop seeing my wife, although when I was drinking, I think she had many a night where she thought about that option. I could easily stop going out for drinks after work, but I wanted to keep my marriage so cutting her out of my life wasn't an option. Now that I'm sober, we don't keep alcohol in the house and we've started going to movies or out in the evenings.

 

"Thank you all for sharing. Each of us has to look at our relationships and determine if the friends we have are ones that we associate with drinking. If they are, it is important to determine if we can stay sober when we are with them. Change and examining our lives are both part of the process of sobriety. We have to accept that we may need to pick new friends, change our routines, and rethink what we want out of life if we want to be successful in our journey to sobriety. On that note, many AA groups hold social activities as well as meetings. I'd like us to think about participating in social activity on a non-meeting night. We can start to develop new friendships with people who will not participate in drinking as part of the event. As always, coffee is in the back and I encourage you to greet at least one person tonight after our meeting," said the leader.

 

Brian and Justin walked back to the coffee station but didn't head toward the line. Instead, Justin tilted his head toward the door and Brian nodded his head in agreement.

 

"I fucking felt like I was on the playground in kindergarten. Say hi to the person you are sitting next to so we can all be friends," Brian said, the memory obviously not a pleasant one. Several people glanced at them, but no one stopped to say hi as the two men left the building.

 

"It can be a very helpful activity. Sometimes giving people permission to say hi and introduce themselves is the missing piece for people to start a connection with someone new," Justin said. He didn't want to lecture Brian but at the same time, he wanted to share his opinion. He started walking toward the door, nodding at several members as they passed. Many of them were still heading toward the back where the proverbial old coffee station was located, but he and Brian were headed out of the meeting.

 

"When someone starts attending AA, it can be really intimidating. There is a lot of self-talk that goes on before a person attends a meeting. ‘What is a meeting like? Will I be the wallflower in the group? Will anyone care that I'm here?" No one wants to admit to fear of rejection when they enter a meeting, but it is often in the back of their minds. The person has often hit rock bottom in their life; personally and or professionally. They have lost a lot, if not most everything they cared about. They are feeling desperate and need a helping hand, but they don't want to be judged. Oftentimes, the people they care about have turned away from them as a result of their drinking and they are incredibly vulnerable. A little encouragement by the leader to say hi and introduce yourself gives the newcomer an acceptable way to meet people." They were not out of the building and walking side by side but Justin wasn't sure he still had all of Brian's attention. He could feel the tension coming off the man and wanted him to understand that making new friends and starting over was an integral part of the AA meeting process. "If the leader says it's okay and something you should do, then participants will usually follow the suggestion. You may not remember your first meeting much, but the leader suggested that everyone welcome the newcomers and if they saw someone they didn't recognize they should make them feel welcome. It happens at most meetings," Justin said as they walked toward the coffee shop. They walked in silence for a few minutes. It was dark now; the sun had set shortly after the meeting started. There was traffic on the street, but it was less busy than earlier in the evening. The street lights glowed and cast a shimmering light on the two men. It was the perfect spring night, not too cold and not hot yet from the oppressive Pittsburgh heat. 

 

"So is that why you approached me,.... On that first night?" Brian asked. He didn't want to be a charity case and hoped Justin wasn't attending meetings with him as a mandate from his sponsor, Jeremy. "I'm not some loser who needs help to talk to people." Brian was tempted to turn around and walk back to his car but knew if he did that he would head straight toward Woody's or Babylon and throw away all of his progress to date. He took a deep breath and continued walking next to Justin, but he wasn't 100% sure he would continue to do so.

 

Justin bristled at Brian's tone and recognized it as a defense mechanism. This man was complicated. "Brian, I like people and I wanted to help someone who was newly sober. My sponsor was instrumental in my journey, and I can't begin to think about where I'd be today if he hadn't said hi at my first meeting. I don't meet you every night out of pity; that would hurt our relationship and I wouldn't be a very effective sponsor."

 

"So now I'm a project for you?" Brian said, the anger in him rising. He could feel his neck and back tensing. He was not much for social engineering and didn't want anyone's pity. Pity made his dick soft and he was already woefully deficient in the number of times he was getting his cock sucked these days. 

 

Justin stopped walking and said, "Brian, stop. Look at me and listen." He wanted to reach out and touch Brian, physically turn Brian toward him, but he wanted Brian to be in control, to choose to listen, and not just follow a suggestion. He waited what seemed like several minutes, but was most likely only 30 seconds, before Brian stopped walking and turned toward Justin. Luckily, the sidewalks were fairly empty at that time of night and they didn't have to keep moving out of the way of other walkers.

 

"I'm not here to pick a fight with you. I'm not here to wave a magic wand and watch you transform like Cinderella. I'm not here to watch you spin out of control and go back to drinking either. You're an interesting man with a problem that I can relate to. Been there, done that. We are both professionals and I understand some of your struggles. I like people and I want to see you succeed in this journey. I'm hoping that we can be friends. But if you aren't comfortable with me being your sponsor, then please go find someone else. This isn't about me; it's about you and your journey toward sobriety. You need a sponsor you can trust and share things with."

 

Brian listened to Justin and nodded his head. "Okay," he answered and resumed walking.

 

Justin had hoped for a little more insight into what was going through Brian's mind to cause him to snap like that, but he accepted his answer and they continued to the diner. Once inside the diner, they were seated toward the back as usual. Brian wondered if they gave off a vibe that they wanted a little privacy, but wasn't going to analyze yet another thing in his life. 

 

The waitress came a few minutes later with glasses of water and asked if they were ready to order. Justin had picked up the menu that was on the table immediately upon their being seated. He had turned it over several times as if he was looking at his last meal and had to ensure that he chose well. Finally, he put the menu down and said, " I'll have the cherry cheesecake with some cheese fries. Bring them out together."

 

The waitress wrote his order down and looked toward Brian. "And for you, sir?"

 

"I'll have a turkey burger, no bun with a side salad. Oil and Vinegar on the side."

 

"Okay. Do you want your salad now or with your meal?"

 

"With the meal is fine."

 

"Turkey burger. I don't think I've ever seen you eat real food. Usually, you just order, coffee," Justin said. He wanted to get their conversation back on a less volatile footing and a small comment about Brian's order seemed to be a good way to handle this situation.

 

"You really are a people observer. I couldn't tell you what I had for lunch much less what anyone else had. Actually, I'd have to really think about whether or not I even ate with anyone or actually ate lunch," Brian admitted.

 

"Well, did you eat lunch?" Justin asked, still trying to ease Brian back to the hot topic they were discussing earlier.

 

Brian thought for a moment and said, "Yeah. My assistant brought be a sandwich from the diner across the street," Brian said. "Why are we discussing my eating habits? I really don't think that those are part of my sobriety."

 

"Fair enough. We were talking about social outlets at the meeting. Many people go out for a meal with friends as a common social outlet. Do you eat out with your friends?" Justin asked. This was hopefully a good segway to what he did with his friends.

 

"Sometimes. Well, yeah, I eat at the diner a lot. There is a group of us that go there every Sunday morning and there a lot of days I eat there for breakfast too. Debbie works there."

 

"Debbie. She's your sort of surrogate mom?" Justin asked, trying to mentally draw a diagram of Brian's social structure.

 

"Yeah. Food isn't all that great, but it's a place for all of us to meet."

 

"That's great. I don't imagine you are drinking at breakfast? It's important to have friends that you don't associate with drinking," Justin asked, pleased that Brian appeared to have a good start on having activities that he did with his friends.

 

"Shit, no. There isn't even any booze at the diner. But we go there late at night too and sometimes before we go out." The waitress brought their food and Brian took a sip of his coffee, putting more creamer and sugar in it before he took another drink.

 

"So you go out with these same friends? What do you do when you go out?" Justin was getting excited as it appeared that Brian had some activities that he could rely on to fill his time now that he wasn't drinking. His friends appeared to already be participating in activities that didn't involve drinking.

 

"We go to Woody's and Babylon. You know the bars on Liberty Avenue," Brian said, getting a faraway look when he mentioned his old stomping ground. He missed hanging out at Woody's and Babylon. It wasn't just the drinking and drugging, but that was a part of it. He missed the thumpa thumpa of the music as it thrummed through his body. He missed the smell and sight of 100 men and their sweaty bodies as they danced to the music. He missed the conquest of taking guys to the back room.

 

"Do you drink when you go to Woody's and Babylon?" Justin asked. He'd been to the bars on Liberty enough to know that drinking was common. He was impressed that Brian was going to the bars where alcohol was ever-present and maintaining his sobriety.

 

Brian took a bite of his turkey patty and looked at Justin as if he'd grown two heads. He had known this day was coming, but he really hadn't been able to think about it. It was one of those many half-thoughts that he couldn't ever finish.

 

"Justin. I drank every night. I worked, went to the gym, and then went to Woody's and often to Babylon. Getting home at 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning was commonplace for me. All my friends hang out at Woody's and Babylon. I saw them every night at the bars. Sure, I saw them at the diner for breakfast or Sunday morning, but my life was at the bars."

 

Justin ate a french fry as he rethought his earlier assumptions. Sure Brian had friends and they did see each other a lot, but it appeared he was now at loose ends when it came to his typical activities. 

 

"Oh," Justin said, as much at a loss as Brian was. "Are you still going to Babylon and Woody's? I would imagine that is hard to do with all the liquor there."

 

The moment of truth had come. "I don't go. Too much temptation, but I miss it. Not just drinking. I miss the whole experience. It was my existence, and I honestly don't know if I can stay away forever. The speaker tonight talked about finding friends that you can do things with, ones that are not involved in activities that involve drinking. Babylon and Woody's are more than places to drink for me. They are my life."

 

A million thoughts ran through Justin's mind as he listened to Brian. Things were about to get very complicated and he needed to help Brian. The 64,000 dollar question was how to help him keep his friends, find a life outside of the bars and develop new ways to spend his free time. It was a tall order and he had no idea where to start.

 

TBC


	15. Comraderie or Habit?

Each man ate a few bites of their food, not saying anything or even looking at each other. Brian had dropped a bombshell on Justin and Justin wasn't really sure where to begin to stop the explosion. Brian obviously had friends, but his social life was caught up in his drinking. While this was not uncommon; Justin understood that this was not a normal situation. Many alcoholics' social life revolved around their drinking and they had specific friends that they drank with. It wasn't uncommon for people in recovery to have to develop a whole new social group, one that didn't revolve around drinking. It appeared that Brian was different; his friends were not only the people he went to the bars with but were people he hung out with when he wasn't drinking. It was similar to the man who said that he couldn't give up his marriage; even though that was where he did a lot of his drinking. He had to make a conscious effort to not drink when he was at home and choose other activities. It seemed to work for him. 

 

"So going to Babylon and Woody's is not about the drinking," Justin said, making a statement to clarify his understanding rather than asking a question.

 

"Yeah. I go there to hang out with the gang, to pick up tricks, to hit the back room, to dance a little and to drink. When I go to Woody's I play pool and have a few beers. My purpose is not to get drunk, I just want to hang out," Brian said as he finished the bite of turkey burger. He had no idea what the turkey burger tasted like; he was eating it for something to do rather than out of hunger. "I drink at home, but there isn't anyone there. I don't associate Babylon or Woody's with the place I drink. Sometimes I drink when I'm entertaining a client too. I drink a lot of places." Justin had said that sometimes it is easier to talk when you are doing something rather than just sitting face to face with people. It seemed that this was another area where Justin had the right idea. 

 

"Tell me about your drinking at home. It seems that your drinking at other places is part of the activity," Justin asked. He was beginning to see a different picture of Brian. Brian didn't go to the bars with the intention of drinking, he went with the intention of hanging out with his friends and drinking was not the goal. However, he was curious about the drinking at home, especially based on the phone conversation from the other night.

 

"What do you mean? I drink at home. What is there to tell?"

 

Justin smiled at Brian's answer. Sometimes he could be obtuse.

 

"Okay, let's try the question in another way. Why do you drink at home? It seems that drinking is not the goal when you go to Babylon or Woody's but rather just a part of the big picture, and obviously, when you entertain a client, it is to be social. But at home, you're not being social."

 

Brian ate another bite of his turkey burger, more to give him a few minutes to mull around his answer. 

 

"I drink when I have a bad day. I drink because I want a drink. I enjoy the smooth taste with the slight burn as the liquor goes down my throat. I drink to celebrate closing an account. I don't know what you are getting at, Justin. I drink at home. I don't need a reason."

 

Justin listened and kicked himself when he realized that he had missed this vital piece of information. Again, he realized that people were not round pegs that easily fit into a hole, but were more often the square peg that needed to have its edges rounded to fit the hole.

 

"So what have you been doing instead of going to Woody's and Babylon?"

 

"Go to work, to the gym and then to meetings. After the meetings, we usually get coffee. By the time I get home it's 10:30 or so. Sometimes I find a trick, but otherwise I turn on the TV and watch an old movie. It's a supremely boring life. I've only had a couple weekends of sobriety, but Saturday night is probably the hardest. Meetings end at 8:00 and then we go for coffee but were done by 10:00. 10:00 is when the bars start hopping. Normally, my Saturday night would just be starting. All the gang is at the bar and I having no fucking idea what to do with myself. Any gay man my age is at the bars crusing, dancing or fucking and I'm at home in front of the fucking tv," Brian said, the anger coming out with vehemence.

 

Justin scrambled for something to say. He didn't want to give Brian platitudes about it getting better or he'd find something to do. Brian was likely to get up and leave and throw sobriety to the wolves if he suggested that course of action. "I don't hang out at Woody's or Babylon on Saturday night," Justin said, deciding that sharing his life might be the only genuine response.

 

"What did you do on Saturday night when you were drinking?" Brian asked, realizing that Justin might have navigated this landmine before.

 

Justin smiled, happy that Brian appeared to actually want to explore the difficult topic. "I usually was at some opening or showing of my work or that of another artist. It's important that you are seen at other events; it shows you are interested in new trends and you can look to see what other artists are doing and look at their techniques. We don't copy other people's work, but we do like to see trends. After the official opening was over, there was usually some after hours party where you talked to other artists and patrons. Patrons are sometimes the worst. They want to be your friend or try to second guess the up and coming artists so they can get their work at a cheap price before they become "a name". I often found myself "enjoying" the free booze a little too much at these events. It was a way to numb myself from all the pretension."

 

Brian nodded in understanding. He had to entertain clients at least once a week and sometimes more often. A client was someone he had to listen to out of professional interest despite usually finding their conversation boring and often pretentious. Occasionally he found a client that he enjoyed taking to dinner or to an event, but that was more the exception rather than the rule. "Entertaining the client is the bane of our existence, but a necessary evil," Brian said tongue in cheek, using the cliches purposefully. 

 

"When my agent threatened me with getting sober or leaving me, I realized that I had better clean up my act. She was very good and got me into a lot of galleries that I could not get my foot in the door by myself. She believed in me and my art," Justin said, realizing again that his agent was really in his corner.

 

"I imagine you still have to go to those events. But you don't go every weekend?" Brian asked, realizing that Justin hadn't really answered the question. 

 

"Yeah, I go, but not every weekend. It was a compromise between me and Amy, my agent. I told her that I would go to two shows a month and not drink. I told her that shows were stressful and if she wanted me to stay sober, then she would have to work with me. She said that she didn't want to lose me as a client and was willing to forego my presence at all the events."

 

"So how do you not drink? The free booze is all around you," Brian asked, wanting to know if there was some magic elixir that could allow him to go to Woody's and Babylon without drinking.

 

"I go early and take a wine glass and put water or seltzer water in it. The kitchen staff have been told that I need to have my glasses refilled when its empty and Amy has arranged that the kitchen staff have an empty wine bottle that is just for me. They fill it with water or seltzer and I'm the only one that gets refills from it. This works really well when it is my show. When I go to other shows, I suck on mints. Mints and alcohol taste really awful."

 

"I could ask the bartender for water. I'd probably get weird looks, but he'd give it to me. That might actually work."

 

"Brian, from what you've told me, going to the bars is more about the camaraderie and conquest rather than drinking," Justin asked, making sure he understood what Brian had told him.

 

Brian thought about the question. Camaraderie? Did he really like the gang enough to want to hang out with them without the benefit of liquor? He thought about that question. Ted and Blake went to the bars on occasion, but Emmett went nightly, as did Michael. Ted had told him that many nights they came home, cooked dinner and watched a movie. He wasn't sure what Emmett did when he wasn't at the bars, and he knew Michael and his Professor stayed in occasionally to do whatever the hell they did. He really needed brain bleach if he thought of any of them having sex. While sex was a frequent topic at the diner, or even at the bars, he actually didn't think that any of their sex lives was as prolific as his own. Of course, his sex life had decreased drastically now that he wasn't going to the bars. Not that he was celebate, Brian Kinney did not do celebate. But, he'd cut back on sex out of necessity, since his sobriety took him out of his traditional playground. Thinking of sex, he looked at the man across from him and couldn't help but picture him in his bed, his porcelain skin against the dark blue sheets, a piece of art in and of itself. Shaking his head at that thought, he went back to his original thought.

 

"It is about the conquest, if I'm honest with myself, I'm just not sure about the camaraderie. There are three of us, and all of them have significant others. Ted and Blake have histories of addiction and don't drink anymore. They come to the bars a couple of times a month, but not daily. Emmett is there most of the time when his husband is out of town or playing. He's a football player and can't burn the midnight oil on Saturday night before a game. So during football season, Emmett is usually around; but in the summer and off season, it's hit or miss. They travel a lot so he's gone more than he used to be, And, Mikey, well he's almost always there. Mikey is married too, but his hubby doesn't like the bar scene and only occasionally joins us."

 

Justin finished his burger and took a last sip of his coffee and waived the waitress over to their table. "Basically, you and Mikey are the only ones that consistently go to Babylon?"

 

Brian ran through his answer and said, " Yeah, I guess."

 

"So really the question is about you and Michael hanging out. You said that Mikey has this persona of you and keeps asking you when you are going to come back to the bar? It seems to me that it's not so much about Woody's or Babylon, but about Michael?"

 

Brian looked at Justin with an open mouth, starting to respond then stopping and taking a last bit of his burger. He thought about a typical night at Babylon. He'd picked up three or four tricks, have at least half a dozen shots or 3-4 beers and hang with Mikey. They really didn't talk much, just Mikey pointing out hot guys to Brian, as if he really needed Mikey to point to any of the hot guys available. Brian was perfectly capable of choosing and discerning any hot guy he wanted to hook up with. No wonder Mikey wanted him at the bar. He had no one to hang out with. Mikey felt important hanging out with the King of Babylon and the King hadn't visited his Kingdom in over two weeks. 

 

"I hadn't thought about it in that way. Mikey thinks he helps me by pointing out tricks and hanging out when we are at the bar. I don't need Mikey to point out hot guys or to get encouragement to go after my third trick of the night. When I'm traveling and go to a bar, I am just fine without him."

 

Brian took three packets of sugar and hit them on the table and then tore them open, pouring them into his coffee. He took two creamers, opened the lids and added them to the mixture. Afterwards, he took his spoon and stirred the drink. Putting his spoon on the saucer, he lifted up the coffee cup and took a sip. "Good. I guess they do have good coffee here."

 

"Okay, wise one, we have solved the problems of the world regarding Mikey. He will have to re-invent his role as sidekick." Brian smiled at that description. He thought about Mikey's favorite saying, ‘I'm Brian's best friend.' It was as if his identity was directly related to Brian. "I have a possible solution to drinking when I'm at the bars, but I still think Mikey will balk."

 

"Only one way to see if it works," Justin said as he smiled at Brian.

 

"True. But what if it doesn't and I start drinking again. I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but Brian Kinney is not a failure."

 

"I could come with you. I haven't been to the bars in ages and I love to give my tail feathers a work out," Justin offered.

 

"Your presence would definitely be a deterrent and a reminder. But..."

 

"Brian, remember the speaker tonight talked about doing things socially with those in the group, making new social groups to replace the ones you had when you were drinking. It would be fun to go hang out with you at Babylon. Not everyone who goes to the clubs is there to drink. You said yourself that your friends Ted and Blake go and they are in recovery."

 

"Okay. Sounds like a plan. I do miss the thrill of the hunt. Why don't we try for Thursday, its busier then but not as busy as Friday and Saturday night," Brian suggested. Smiling and feeling some real anticipation for the first time in almost a month, Brian said, "Thanks for volunteering."

 

They finished their meals and paid the bill, then walked back toward the rec center where the AA meeting was held. The traffic was almost non existent, being after 10:00 on a weeknight. Each man was quiet for the first block of their walk.

 

"You really don't have to come to Babylon with me. I don't need a babysitter," Brian said, thinking about people's reaction to Justin. 

 

"Brian, I'm not your keeper or babysitter. I am a gay man who likes to dance and who hasn't been to Babylon in a while. It just so happens that I'm your sponsor. Its common for people in recovery to do things socially with other people in recovery. Going to the bars for you is not really to drink,.... Unless you are lying to yourself and to me. Going to the bars is for your own recreation and you want to continue that activity. There is liquor in a lot of places in our community. Hell, you can buy beer at the kid soccer game where your son plays. There is liquor in the grocery store. There is liquor at the bowling alley. There is liquor at the baseball and football games. It is everywhere. Do people go to the ballgame and get drunk? Sure. Do people go to the ballgame with the intention of getting drunk or are they there to watch the game? Some people associate going to the game with drinking and for some people drinking is just a part of the experience. If you never wanted to be around liquor again, you would have to be like Rapunzel and lock yourself in a high tower. Part of recovery is learning to successfully navigate life without drinking just because it is available." Justin walked down the sidewalk alongside Brian. Since it was late at night, they were the only two people on that side of the street. Across the street a little grey Schnauzer was being walked by an older man with graying hair. The statement that dogs resemble their owners or vice versa appeared to be apparent in this pairing. They had just walked under a street lamp and Justin caught a glance at the pair and thought they looked like they belonged together. 

 

Brian listened and didn't interrupt Justin. "When you talk it makes perfect sense, but when I get home or am alone with my thoughts, it all becomes a collage of half thoughts and questionable reasoning. I mean, there is liquor everywhere, but I'm not really tempted to have a drink everytime I go to the grocery store or to Gus' soccer game. I buy liquor when I'm out at home, but that isn't everytime I go to the store," Brian said. "Actually, that might not really be true. I don't shop for groceries very often. I eat out a lot; I don't cook. So, going to the grocery store might actually be a result of needing a fresh bottle of Jack or Jim."

 

"You have liquor in your home?" Justin asked as they crossed the street at the end of the second block.

 

"Yeah. I have a whole cabinet. Remember the other night when I told you that I wanted to have a drink since I had a for shit day." Brian said, trying to remind Justin about their conversation.

 

"Yeah, I remember. Brian. Liquor in your home is a whole lot more temptation then going to a bar," Justin said, hoping that Brian would make the leap to getting rid of the temptation on his own. He was not the liquor police, just as he had told Brian. But he did feel a responsibility as Brian's sponsor that he should encourage him to develop good habits, and one of those was getting rid of the temptation that was sitting right in his own home.

 

"True. But I haven't drunk any yet. I thought the first few weeks would be the point of highest temptation and I've been successful so far," Brian said. He had successfully navigated his attempt at self pity and drinking and thought he could do so again without difficulty. 

 

"At dinner, you said that you drink at home for a lot of reasons. It appears that at Babylon and Woody's, drinking is part of the experience, but there is no experience in your home. At least you haven't given me any indication that there is," Justin said as he smiled at Brian before continuing. "You are avoiding Babylon and Woody's as there is liquor there, but you keep liquor in your home?" Justin was quiet for a few moments, giving Brian time to process his conversation. 

 

"When I started AA I had a butt load of liquor in my house. I gave it to my mom. I've never regretted that decision. Having to go out and buy a fresh bottle, made me stop and really question whether the journey to the store was worth my hard earned sobriety. It proved to be a successful strategy. Every time I went to the place I stored my liquor in my home and it was empty, it was a visual reminder of how far I'd come. You'd be surprised at how powerful an empty cabinet was in my recovery. Now that cabinet holds art supplies and small canvases. I don't see it as my liquor cabinet at all."

 

"I guess I should get rid of the liquor. But throwing it down the drain... I could give it to Debbie or Mikey, but then they would ask why I'm giving my booze away," Brian said when he realized that Justin made a good argument. There really wasn't a reason to keep the liquor. He knew he would eventually have to come clean about his sobriety, but he wasn't sure he was ready to do that yet. "I could always tell them that Gus is getting to the age that many kids start to experiment and since I want to have him around more, I don't want it in the house. That would get rid of it without telling them anything," Brian said, pleased with his idea.

 

"Brian, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life or who to tell or not tell about your sobriety, but honesty with yourself and your family is a big piece of the process. Hiding your non drinking status from everyone isn't really in the spirit of recovery," Justin said, deciding that he really did need to call Brian on his deceptive practices. "Working hard on your sobriety is just as important as working hard on your lifestyle and reimagining what your new life is going to look like. I don't think you would want to keep this big piece of your life a secret from your friends and family," Justin said, hoping Brian wouldn't balk at his honesty.

 

Justin had been down this sobriety road for a while now, and he had successfully navigated the land mines of telling friends, family and colleagues. But he was not Brian Kinney, stud of Liberty Avenue. He didn't have a reputation to uphold. Then Brian stopped his thoughts. Justin did have a reputation to uphold; his professional one, and it had been very much in jeopardy as a result of his drinking. He did have to change and let everyone in his sphere know that he had changed. His life and livelihood depended on living a sober lifestyle. Hell, his agent had bent over backwards to come up with a workable solution so that no one questioned his drinking habits at openings where the wine and food were equally scrutinized as much as the art work. 

 

"I guess I can't keep the drinking or non- drinking thing a secret forever. It appears that I'm working harder at keeping it a secret than I ever did at flaunting my drinking and drugging. I flaunted my drinking and showed everyone how much I could imbibe, yet still be incredibly successful in my personal and professional life. I never tried to hide my drinking; it was as much a part of me as my tricking. I have to wonder why I'm working so hard at hiding the fact that I'm not drinking," Brian said. 

 

They crossed the last block and the center where the AA meeting was held was on the back corner. Brian's brain was tired, he and Justin had hit on some big issues tonight and he really wanted to contemplate their implications in his sobriety. Why was he working so hard at hiding his sobriety? Could he really hit up Babylon and successfully only drink water? Was Babylon about the drinking, drugging and sex or more about the sex? Did he want to get rid of his liquor at home? Could he get rid of it and what would he do with it? 

 

"You've given me so much to think about, I doubt my brain will shut up enough to let me get some sleep. Thank you so VERY much, " Brian said, tongue in cheek. "Seriously, I do have a lot to think about. Consider your job as a sponsor successful for tonight. Tomorrow, at the Clark Hall? 7:30, right?"

 

Justin got out his proverbial piece of paper that had all the meetings listed and the ones they had agreed upon were highlighted. "Yep, Clark Hall @ 7:30. Later, Brian," Justin said.

 

They walked the last few yards to their respective cars and drove away. 

 

TBC


	16. Temptation

Brian drove home as he mulled over their conversation from dinner. His first thought was to damn Justin for bringing up all these issues, but then he accepted that Justin was trying to help him be the best man he could be. This would be a sober version of Brian Kinney, stud of Liberty Avenue, who no longer drank. Justin made it seem so easy and logical. Go to the bars and drink water or seltzer and still enjoy all the activities there. He was excited about the prospect of returning to Babylon and hoped Justin was right. He could go back to picking up tricks, something he desperately wanted to do. Tricking was a part of him; he prided himself on being able to have any man he wanted just by giving him a look and a raised eyebrow. Brian Kinney was neglecting his kingdom and he needed to return to his subjects. He was pretty confident he would not drink if Justin accompanied him; Justin would be a good deterrent. Brian bristled at the thought that he needed a keeper to keep him away from the liquor, but decided he wouldn't allow his brain to explore that road. It would be another thought to add to his ever growing pile of half finished musings.

 

He thought about the liquor in his home. Justin had challenged him, asking why he had liquor there. It was different than Babylon, where picking up tricks was the goal, not drinking. But at home, the only purpose the alcohol had was for him to drink it. He didn't entertain at his home. Well, technically he brought tricks there, but that was a different kind of entertaining. He didn't offer his tricks anything but a stiff cock and hot sex. If he were honest with himself and intended to maintain his sobriety, he had no use for liquor in his home. Damn. Justin really manages to push the envelope. Now what the fuck am I going to do with all that liquor. Sure, I could pour it down the drain, but that is a waste of good liquor. I guess this thought won't go to the growing pile of musings. I'm going to have to come up with a solution.

 

He pulled into his parking spot, took the elevator up to his loft, and went inside. After dropping his keys in the basket by the door, he automatically walked toward the liquor cabinet for a drink. What the fuck? I haven't walked over here since the night Mikey showed up at the loft telling me Deb was coming to watch Gus. He opened the door and looked inside. There were two bottles of Beam, a bottle of Vodka and a few six packs of beer. There was a decanter that was empty on top of the cabinet. Brian stood there, looking at the liquor, debating if he could or should take a drink. No one would know if I took a drink. I know I have to stop drinking when I'm not home. I can't chance getting behind the wheel of a car again. Can I still drink at home? Am I really an alcoholic? After all, I run a multi million dollar company and make critical decisions every day. Alcoholics don't run successful companies. My mother is an alcoholic, although she says that she is just drinking "to calm her nerves". Pops was an alcoholic too. Every fucking day he came home and drank away his failures. If he wasn't drinking at home, he was drinking at the Union Hall with his buddies. Both of them were failures. I am neither. I am a successful businessman. Surely one drink would be okay. 

 

But Brian stopped himself and closed the door to the cabinet. He had read the Big Book and listened to enough meetings to know he was fooling no one. Shit! Fuck! I'm as bad as my parents. I'm drinking to escape my life. What the fuck!

 

He looked at the time, it was only 9:30. He picked up his phone and hit a button.

 

"Bri, everything okay?" Ted asked, as he looked at the clock on the mantle. It had been a gift from his mother when he bought his condo. It was a clock radio and was deep cherry wood. There were small speakers on either side of the clock, but he never used the radio, preferring to use his state of the art audio system to listen to opera. He'd had a tenuous relationship with his mother in his early adult life, but when she found out he was gay and was happy for the first time in his life, she embraced his choices. Every time he looked at the clock he smiled and thought of his mother and how lucky he was that she accepted who he was and his partner.

 

"What did you do with the liquor in your house?" Brian asked, choosing to decline social amenities by saying hello and asking if it was too late to call or if he was busy.

 

Ted quickly realized this was not a social call and sat down in his favorite leather chair. "I emptied it in the sink. Emmett came over and we gathered all my bottles and it took us about 20 minutes. He knew all the secret places I kept my liquor so he was instrumental in the process. He wouldn't let me get away with hiding any for ‘one last drink'. Do you want me to come over and help you?" Ted said. He knew his friend was at a critical juncture in his journey and Brian would most likely not want to ask for help, even if it would be very helpful. By volunteering, Ted took the task of asking out of the equation.

 

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Ted knew Brian was mostly likely struggling with this step in the process. He knew he was attending meetings and avoiding Babylon. He'd heard enough of Michael's whining to know that Brian had not been seen at Woody's or Babylon in a few weeks and Michael was not happy about it. Ted was somewhat surprised that Brian had not thrown out his liquor prior to today, but he wasn't going to question his friend, just offer his support.

 

Brian thought about Ted's offer. He had a conversation with Justin earlier tonight about getting rid of his liquor and Justin had questioned why he still had the liquor so easily accessible. He could have called Justin and asked, but that seemed a little too intimate for him. Justin in his apartment, so close to his bed, was too much of a temptation at this time. He needed Justin to be his sponsor more than he needed him as a notch on his proverbial bedpost. 

Shitt ! I chose Ted because he wouldn't judge me, would support my decision to throw away the liquor. Mikey would try to convince me that I wasn't an alcoholic, that I was Brian Kinney, stud of Liberty Avenue. If I asked Lindsay, she would chastise me and would probably try to keep me away from Gus. She would speak using her country club voice and perfect manners, explaining that she had to keep Gus safe and I could be a bad influence. My "family" would judge me and then I would want to go drink, completing the vicious circle. Well, I'm certainly fucked and not in a good way. 

 

"Yes," Brian answered. He knew that Ted would intuitively understand that Brian needed him now, not tomorrow or in a few hours.

 

"I'll be there in about 20 minutes. Do you need me to stay on the phone with you until I get there?" Ted said as he offered unsolicited support. He was already gathering his car keys and jacket and walking toward the study where Blake was doing some work on a presentation he was going to give at a conference in a few weeks. 

 

"No. I'm going to take a shower. Even though I don't drink in the shower. Watered down booze is a waste of good whiskey," Brian said as he felt a sense of relief wash over him. You know the code to get in the building and I'll leave the door unlocked just in case you get here before I'm done. I had the locks changed a few days ago." 

 

"See you in a bit," Ted said. He walked into the study and looked at Blake sitting, deep in thought, almost oblivious to his presence.

 

"Give me about 10 minutes and then I'll be done. I'm sorry that I've been at this all night," Blake said as he looked at his husband and gave him a smoldering look as his eyes traveled up and down Ted's body. He unconsciously licked his lips, thinking about the treasures underneath Ted's clothing. 

 

"Gotta take a rain check. Brian just called and he wanted to know what I did with my liquor. I offered to help him pour it down the drain," Ted said, knowing this was all the explanation Blake needed. 

 

"You're a good man, Ted. Everyone should have a friend like you." Blake stood up and gave Ted a quick kiss on the lips. "See you when you get back."

 

Ted drove to Brian's loft and arrived within 15 minutes. The streets were fairly empty as it was a Monday. While Brian lived close to Liberty Avenue, he was far enough away to avoid the traffic, congestion and noise from the "gay part of town". He wanted to be close to his "playground" but not directly inside it. His commute was only seven minutes and Brian enjoyed living so close to the area. 

 

Ted had chosen a more suburban living option. He and Blake were not like Michael and Ben, who chose to live in a predominantly gay neighborhood. Ted and Blake lived about 15 minutes away from their respective workplaces and did not socialize much with their neighbors. Both were very busy with their jobs and while they found their neighbors nice enough, they chose to interact with them on a casual basis.

 

Ted parked his car in the lot across the street and walked to Brian's building. He used the code to get in the building and took the elevator up to the unit. Letting himself in, he closed the door but didn't lock it. Looking around the open area, he noticed the lack of personal items. It was a beautiful space but looked like it was staged for a photo session. He recognized high end furnishing and noticed the details of the furniture. He paid Brian's bills so knew that he didn't scrimp when it came to his clothing or the furniture in his home. He even had high end appliances in his kitchen which Ted found amusing since he knew Brian did not cook. He heard the water shut off just as he had walked in the door and sat on the couch to wait for Brian. 

 

While he knew where the liquor was kept, and could have most likely been done with the task of pouring it down the drain before Brian got dressed and joined him; he knew that a big part of this task was that Brian did the pouring. Brian had to physically choose to get rid of the liquor. He needed to part with it by choice; otherwise it would lose the impact of disposal. 

 

Ted heard footsteps in the bedroom and yelled out, "Bri, I'm here."

 

"Be out in a minute," Brian yelled back. He was glad that Ted was prompt and that he didn't have to wait for his arrival. There were definite advantages to having an accountant as your friend, punctuality and promptness were inbred personality traits. He didn't have to worry that Ted would have taken time to run an errand or taken an hour to get out of the house.

 

Brian came out of the bedroom dressed in a pair of jeans and a wife beater. He looked a little tense and Ted chalked it up to anxiety of addressing the next step in his recovery. 

 

"So how do we do this?" Brian asked.

 

"How do you want to do this, Bri? There isn't a manual on how to get rid of your liquor. I would say that you gather it all up, we take it to the sink and then you pour it down. But if you have other ideas...."

 

"Sounds like a plan. Liquor cabinet is over here," Brian said as he walked toward the cabinet. Like all the other furniture in his home, it was simple and understated but of obvious high quality. It stood on four legs and was made from Makassar and Birch Wood veneer and casted Bronze. The cabinet was about 20 inches from the floor. It had an oval in the middle and two half ovals on either side. It opened up to display four shelves to store your liquor on. https://bernadettelivingston.com/shop-by-room/dining-room-furniture/breakfronts-china-cabinets/rahart-collection-bar-cabinet.html

 

Brian had several bottles inside the cabinet, but just as his furnishings were sparse, so was his liquor cabinet. Ted decided Brian did most of his drinking at Babylon or Woody's so his collection at home would reasonably be small.

 

"This all? No secret stash?"

 

"No. I don't have any secret stash. Why would I? I'm not hiding my drinking from anyone. I live alone, no one keeps tabs on me," Brian said as he thought of the many arguments his parents had on a regular basis regarding his father's whereabouts on any given night. His mother always seemed to know his father was at the Union Hall with his buddies drinking, but she almost never failed to question him about his activities for the evening. Brian never understood their argument as he knew the end would always involve his body being beaten as his father lashed out at his mother. His father never hit his mom, at least that he could remember, but someone his anger would be perpetuated on Brian.

 

"Okay. that makes sense. Let's gather the liquor and take it to the sink," Ted said as he took the beer toward the sink. 

Brian grabbed the two bottles of Beam, one partially drank and the other one that had never been opened. Ted went back to grab the bottle of Vodka and stood it next to all the other liquor by the sink.

 

Brian reached for the Vodka. "I have absolutely no idea why I have Vodka. I must have bought it for a party which seems odd since I don't have parties." He hit his hand on his head. "Oh yeah, it must have been left over from the party I gave Mikey for his 30th birthday. That was some time ago. I remember the party. I invited that woman, what was her name... anyway she was pining after Michael. She worked with him and she thought he was attracted to her when he was just too scared to come out at work. Glad he finally wised up. Took him long enough. That must be where this came from." Brian paused as he calculated the time lag. "Well it's got to be at least 8 maybe 9 years ago. This one should be easy to dispose of. It's been sitting here for this long and I've never opened it." He opened the bottle and poured the liquid down the drain. 

 

Grabbing the 6 pack of beer, he popped the first top and started pouring it down the drain as well. "I usually keep beer for Mikey. He's not a very sophisticated drinker and prefers beer. I guess he'll have to bring his own if he wants one when he visits. I'm never tempted to drink the beer as I think it takes like piss water. Not that I've ever had piss water..."

 

Ted listened and didn't comment. He knew Brian had to make peace with his choices and say goodbye in his own way. So far the purge was easy as it appeared that Brian did not have any vested interest in the liquor that he was draining into the sink. The hard part would be when he got to the whiskey. 

 

Brian finished pouring the last of the beer down the drain when they heard the door slide open. Both men looked at each other and turned toward the door.

 

Michael walked into the loft and started talking, "Hey Bri. I tried to use my key but it wouldn't work. You might want to get that looked at. Hate to have you calling a locksmith at 3:00 in the morning when you were locked out of your home." Michael grinned at the thought of a drunk Brian calling a locksmith in the early hours of the morning. "But I thought I'd see if the door was open and it was. Lucky me. I thought I would come by and see if you were up to going to Babylon tonight. It's been ages since you've been there and I know you miss going to the back room. Your cock is probably standing at attention just by my mentioning the place. I know it's a Monday and things are slow, but there are still guys to fuck." As he located Brian in the kitchen, he saw the two men standing by the sink with a bunch of empty bottles and cans on the counter. "Hey Ted, What are you guys doing?"

 

Brian was instantly on guard. He was never more thankful that Ted was there. He didn't need excuses, but Ted could serve as a distraction, keeping Michael in the dark regarding their activities. He thought back to his conversation with Justin earlier in the evening. He couldn't believe that it was just a few hours ago he was talking to Justin about the liquor in his home and whether he should tell his family about his sobriety. It appeared that he was at a critical juncture in his recovery. He could tell Michael and see if he supported him, or he could continue to avoid his friend. 

 

He had a decision to make and it could literally change his life.

 

TBC


	17. Best Friends of Worst Enemies

As Michael talked Brian's mind was able to complete some of his half formed thoughts in a manner of minutes. I could tell Michael the truth, but if I did it now, the repercussions could be enormous. Michael doesn't know how to keep a secret and often doesn't think before he speaks. He would just share the news that I'm going to AA to anyone and everyone that he met on Liberty Avenue or at the diner. He wouldn't think of the impact this information could have on my life. It would give him some gossip to share and he would feel important for the few minutes that people would talk about "my downfall". He would have his 15 minutes of fame. Michael has a difficult time seeing the big picture or how his actions affect others. I have to protect me and my relationship with Gus more than I need to tell Michael the truth at this point in time. 

 

I want to talk to the lawyer about Gus and see what my rights are. If Lindsay found out before I've accomplished that task, I'm fearful she would cut off my access to Gus. The longer I don't have access to Gus, the more I might question if sobriety is worth it. After all, Gus was a huge part of why I contemplated and decided to seek sobriety. I was scared when I walked away from the accident that totaled my car, but knowing that Gus could have been with me was even more frightening. 

 

It's imperative that I have my rights safeguarded before Lindsay finds out about my AA attendance. She knows me well enough to put two and two together. She would realize that something significant happened that resulted in my decision to attend AA. She understands that I don't make rash decisions. Everything I do is well thought out and the consequences weighed before I make major changes. She would see my attendance at AA as a major change and she would extrapolate that there was more to the decision than a desire to be sober. Accidents are public record and Melanie, Lindsay's she wolf, would quickly hunt down the accident report and potentially use it against me and limit my visitation with Gus. I can't allow that to happen. There is more at stake than Michael knowing about my sobriety journey.

 

"Ted brought me some paperwork to sign and found me cleaning house. The beer in the cabinet was out of date and I know how you complain about flat beer. Although, I really don't know how you claim to know the difference. It's all disgusting, if you ask me. Anyway, I was throwing it away and Ted came into the kitchen to talk about a business meeting we have early in the morning. Some concerns about it came up after I left the office this afternoon. He was just filling me in. I've got an early presentation tomorrow and I still have work to do on it, so you'll just have to go by yourself. I'll walk you out and make sure the door locks. Definitely wouldn't want some stranger walking in on me in mid fuck," Brian said, tongue in cheek. Brian walked toward the door while Ted stayed in the kitchen. 

 

Michael stood at the doorway and said, "But Briannnnn, it's been forever since you've been to Babylon, you don't have to stay long. Just one drink and I'll let you go home," Michael pleaded.

 

"Mikey, you are not my mother, and I don't need your permission to leave Babylon. I'll come and go as I please. But right now, I have a business to run and an important meeting in the morning. Now run along and go spend the evening with your hubby or go to Babylon and pick up a few tricks for me." Brian practically pushed Michael out of the loft and quickly closed the door, making sure that the lock was set.

 

He turned toward Ted and said, "I think we have some Beam to pour down the drain." Brian went to the sink, opened the half full bottle and poured it down the drain. He opened the remaining bottle and did the same. "Well, now my sponsor will be happy," Brian smiled and looked at Ted.

 

"Brian, sure your sponsor will be happy, but you shouldn't do this for your sponsor. Sobriety should be for you and only you," Ted said. He decided that he needed to put away the friend persona and don the recovering addict voice. "Why did you decide today that you needed to get rid of the liquor? Your accident was over three weeks ago and to my knowledge you haven't drank since that time." Ted didn't want to stand by the sink to have this conversation; he wanted to look at Brian and watch his body language. As sophisticated as Brian was at communication, his body still told a lot more about his thoughts than he realized. He walked toward the living room where the Rococo white leather sofa was the centerpiece of the room. There was a contrasting leather Rococo chair to the right of the sofa and a Swedish Rococo coffee table in front of it. There was a 60 inch mounted television on the wall facing the sofa so that Brian could view it head on. The liquor cabinet was in the corner immediately to the right of the door. The furniture was stark and Ted often thought Brian's home felt impersonal. But this was not the time to discuss Brian's decorating taste. He'd been called by his boss and close friend to help him in an important task in his journey to sobriety, and now he wanted to help him by talking about his actions. He knew Brian didn't share feelings, but Ted also knew that sharing was an important part of recovery. "Let's sit down." he motioned to the couch and walked toward it, sitting down and hoping Brian would follow.

 

Brian opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water before joining Ted in the living room. He handed Ted the water and a coaster. 

 

"No, I haven't had anything to drink since the accident, but tonight when I came home from AA, I gravitated toward the bar as soon as I walked in the room." Brian looked at his liquor cabinet. The doors were closed so the contents were hidden. He knew the cabinet was empty and that made him slightly uneasy. 

 

"I realized that my sponsor was right. I guess I never thought about getting rid of the liquor in my house. I associated drinking with going to Babylon and Woody's so I've stayed away from those places." Brian's eyes got a faraway look as heard the familiar thumpa thumpa and smelled the hot sweat as it dripped off the male bodies as they danced to the music. He quickly brought his attention back to Ted. "Justin, he's my sponsor, pointed out that there is liquor everywhere and I couldn't be like Rapunzel and lock myself in a tower to keep myself away from liquor. There is liquor in the grocery store, in the restaurant where I entertain clients, and even at the soccer field where Gus plays." Brian quickly remembered that he had been at Gus' soccer game prior to wrapping his car around the tree. He shuddered at the thought as he remembered walking away from the accident; unscathed, but shaken to his core. "I can't really go anywhere that doesn't have liquor. But when I talked about the liquor in my house, he asked why I had it there. Choosing not to drink at Woody's or Babylon or at Gus' soccer game might be hard but just because it is there doesn't mean that I have to drink it. It's different at home. I put it there. If it isn't there then there is no way to drink it. If I want a drink I would have to go somewhere to get it." Brian twisted the cap off his bottle of water and took a long drink. Talking made him thirsty. He loved giving a pitch but sharing feelings and his thoughts was new to him. One of those half-formed thoughts that he had been struggling with in the last few days was dealing with his feelings. He hadn't talked to Justin about it, but he was beginning to realize that drinking was a way to avoid people and his feelings. It was much easier to drown his bad days, or celebrate his good ones, with liquor than to talk about them He'd always thought talking and sharing was for Lesbians but he was beginning to understand that talking could be beneficial.

 

"I realized that keeping liquor here was not being true to my sobriety. If I truly am going to give up drinking, there was no reason to have it in my home. Having the bottles in my home and not drinking them was my way of still denying there was a problem. If I could keep liquor in my home and not drink it, then I wasn't an alcoholic." Brian grinned and looked at Ted for the first time since they sat down. He watched for his reaction, hoping that Ted wouldn't judge his actions. 

 

"That's pretty common. Admitting you are an alcoholic or addict is rough. No one wants to admit they have problems and that this is something that they are unable to manage by themselves. You are always helping others and never ask for anything," Ted said as he nodded his head in agreement. "I imagine you have read the 12 steps to sobriety. Admitting that you have a problem is the first step. Telling someone that you want to drink, or have a slip up and drank is okay, too. I'm glad you called tonight. I'm here if you ever need me."

 

Brian said, "Thanks. Aren't you going to ask me why I didn't explain to Mikey what we were really doing?" 

 

"If you want to tell me, sure, but you don't owe me an explanation." Ted took several drinks from his water bottle and placed it on the coaster. He had his suspicions why Brian did what he did but he wasn't going to assume anything

 

"Gus. I need to make sure my access to Gus is safeguarded. I don't want Lindsay finding out about any of this until I'm sure she can't use the information to keep him away from me. Mikey doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut," Brian said. He felt relieved that he shared his thoughts. 

 

"That makes sense, but you know he isn't going to give up. The longer you do not show up at Babylon, the more he is going to show up at your doorstep insisting you come with him," Ted said, knowing Michael's habits as well as Brian. 

 

"I know. I'm planning on going to Babylon on Thursday. I'll make sure he knows that I'll be there."

 

"Thursday?" Ted asked, curious to know what Brian's thoughts were. 

 

"I told you what my sponsor said... I can't avoid alcohol. It's everywhere. I just have to learn how to control my desire to drink it. I don't buy liquor everytime I take a client to lunch, even if they have a cocktail, and I don't buy beer every time I go to Gus's soccer game. It's there and easily accessible but I don't do it. While Babylon has alcohol, I don't have to buy it. You and Blake go and order water or soda. I could do the same. I'm not going to stay away from Babylon just because I don't drink anymore."

 

"You're planning on going to Babylon and not drinking or doing drugs. Brian, that is a tall order. I've watched you. You drink 4 or 5 shots and usually do a tab of E or some other drug. Do you think that you can go and not drink or do drugs?" Ted hated to be the person who didn't believe in Brian but he knew his friend really well. Babylon was his playground and asking Brian to come to the playground and just watch would be torture.

 

"Ted, I know what you are thinking. I had the same thoughts, and that is why I've avoided going to Babylon. But my dick is getting really tired of my right hand," Brian said tongue in cheek. "I used to pick up 3 or 4 guys a night and while I can pick up men anywhere, picking them up at AA is not my choice. I like the thrill of the hunt; cruising the dance floor and the bar, eyeing the men for just the right combination of lust and talent. Going to Babylon is as much about picking up tricks as it is drinking. Well for me, they are pretty equal parts, but I find picking up tricks in other places lacking. I do not want to stay away from my playground forever." Brian took a swig from his water bottle and placed it on the coaster. "The stud of Liberty Avenue needs to return to his hunting ground."

 

Ted listened and nodded his head. "Okay. I get it. You realize that you are going to have to navigate the world where alcohol is easily available. You also understand that you can't drink it just because it is there."

 

"Yes. I hear the hesitation in your voice and I appreciate you not telling me this is a bad idea or trying to talk me out of it. But I do have a plan. My sponsor is gay and loves to dance. He hasn't been to the bars in ages and agreed to come with me. Seeing him will be a big deterrent."

 

"Your sponsor is coming with you to the bars?" Ted asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of his voice. Ted wanted to support his friend, but he also didn't want him to fail. He listened to Brian without saying anything. 

 

"I know. You are probably thinking that a sponsor shouldn't encourage an alcoholic going to a bar. But it's like this Ted. At our meeting a few nights ago the leader talked about finding activities that you could do with friends that didn't involve drinking. He was sharing that many people had friends they drank with and that is the only thing they did with those friends. Many people have to develop a whole new circle of friends since the ones they have are only involved in drinking activities. I explained to Justin that I saw "the gang" outside the bar and that we had significant friendships doing other activities that didn't involve liquor. We eat breakfast most days and oftentimes lunch at the diner. We have family dinner at Debbie's and I spend time with Gus. These are the same people that I see at the bars but our friendship isn't focused on going to the bars."

 

"Well that is true. We do hang out at the bars, but that is not where we always hang out. We have a whole life outside the bar. So is your sponsor coming to keep tabs on you? That's not the role of a sponsor."

 

"No. One of the leaders of the meeting talked about doing things socially with other AA members. While I know this is a little unconventional, whoever said I was conventional?" Brain picked up the water bottle and twirled it in his hand and then put it back on the coaster. "I don't see that staying away from Babylon is going to be a successful strategy for keeping me from drinking. Instead, I've got to figure out a way to go to Babylon and not drink. I miss my playground," Brian said, the truth in his words very evident by his soft voice and eye contact with his friend.

 

Ted looked at his friend and saw the sincerity in his face and heard the truth in his words. He knew that Brian went to Babylon and Woodys to pick up tricks and enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. They were truly his playgrounds. "I can see where you would miss Babylon and Woody's. I imagine picking up tricks at your AA meeting might be very awkward." He picked up the water bottle and twirled it in his hands. It was empty, but he needed something to concentrate on while he organized his thoughts. "Bri, I understand why you feel you need to do this, but I've watched you at Babylon. The first place you go when you walk in the door is the bar. You grab a shot or three and then oftentimes you take some E before you survey your playground. If you are planning on doing this, you need a plan."

 

He wanted Ted's blessing, even though he didn't need his approval and permission. "So you don't think I can do this?" Brian wasn't accusatory, but he was not happy about the insinuation of Ted's words. 

 

"Bri, I didn't say you couldn't do this; I said you need a plan. While it's true that you hang out with us at other places besides Babylon, your time at Babylon is really not with the gang. We are there, but usually watching you or dancing with our partners. When you are at Babylon, you are Brian Kinney, Stud of Liberty Avenue, not Brian Kinney, friend of Ted, Michael, and Emmett. We just happen to be there and occasionally interact with you."

 

Brian listened and nodded his head. It seemed such an easy thing when he and Justin were talking. He would go to the bars and dance and stalk his prey, and drinking would not be a part of the experience. "A plan?"

 

"One of the things that recovery teaches you is to think about strategies. As you said, alcohol is everywhere and unless you are going to live in a tower, you have to have a plan on how you are going to handle the easy access. As much as you want to believe that Babylon is about picking up tricks, I think there is more to it."

 

"I guess I can't just go in and just pick up tricks. Mikey would wonder why I'm not drinking and he probably would goad me until I ordered a drink."

 

"Michael could be a problem. I know you haven't told him about your sobriety; maybe now would be a good time." Ted understood Brian's hesitation, but if he wanted to help Brian, he knew he would have to push Brian into looking at all the angles.

 

"I could tell him, but we talked about why I don't think that is a good idea," Brian said. 

 

"So what is your plan? How are you going to avoid the bar?"

 

"What do you and Blake do?"

 

"We order Seltzer water with lime and don't congregate by the bar. We prefer to hang by the railing on the second floor or by one of the tables away from the bar. We avoid going to the bar as much as possible."

 

"Well, you do have a point, Theodore. Today is Monday and Thursday is a few days away. I'll have to figure something out before then," Brian said a little tongue in cheek. Brian stood up to take the empty bottles to the kitchen and placed them on the counter. "I'll call the lawyer tomorrow about Gus. Once I'm sure about my rights to Gus, I'll tell Mikey. Mikey will be a whole other discussion. Emmett and you were great and immediately offered to help in any way you could, but I don't think Mikey is going to have the same response."

 

"So you will tell Michael after you have confirmed everything with the lawyer. That is assuming that you can find a lawyer that will be able to tell you something immediately. If you can't get an answer right away, you need a plan."

 

Brian brought two more bottles of water out to the living area and handed one to Ted. "I guess that's why you are an accountant. You like everything in the proper column." He opened his bottle, took a drink and sat down on the chair. "My plan is Justin. We will come in together and I can ask him to steer me toward the dance floor. After I have danced a few songs, I often go to the bar for a bottle of water. The bars are hot, especially with all those hot, sweaty men. Mikey won't question my drinking water after dancing." Brian smiled at his solution. "See, I told you I would come up with something." 

 

"I'll let Blake know we are going to Babylon on Thursday. We will try and distract you too. I hope for your sake that this is successful," Ted said

 

"Thanks and I know it will be hard, but when did I ever do easy?" Brian said tongue in cheek. "Thanks for coming over. I'll see you tomorrow at the office." 

 

Ted knew when he was being dismissed. He was somewhat surprised that Brian had shared so much tonight. He liked the new Brian and hoped that Brian's sobriety brought more into his life than just time with Gus. 

 

Looking at the clock on the microwave, he saw that it was after 11:00. He could get online and find a trick but, he didn't have the energy. Throwing out his liquor and talking to Ted was emotionally draining. He made sure the door was locked and the alarm was set before he undressed and got ready for bed. As he lay down, he couldn't get the visions of him dancing at Babylon with Justin out of his head. 

 

TBC


	18. Progress

Brian woke Tuesday morning, sitting up in bed as he subconsciously took an inventory of his body. For more years than he could remember, he would wake up with various aches, pains, and a pounding head. He'd started to keep acetaminophen, a bottle of water by his bed, and usually popped two in his mouth before putting his feet on the floor. He realized that he hadn't opened the bottle of pills for several weeks, actually, since he stopped drinking. He hadn't consciously connected the absence of a pounding headache or generalized body ache to the lack of drinking at night, but now he acknowledged the two were definitely connected. He'd been coming into the office earlier, but he'd attributed that to needing to get to a meeting after work. Now that he thought about it, he could see that it was also a result of going to bed earlier since he was not out drinking until 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning. He was getting more sleep and a better quality of sleep. There were definitely some upsides to sobriety. While he spent a lot of money on booze, he wasn't one to keep close ties on his finances and left that chore to Ted. He assumed if he asked Ted about the state of his financial affairs, Ted would tell him there was several hundred dollars more in his checking account. He smiled at that thought, thinking that he could reward himself with a new suit. 

 

He was jolted slightly when his alarm went off. He hadn't looked at the clock but had woken up independently. The jarring sound was set to rouse him even when he was soundly asleep. While he would never admit to having hangovers, he was beginning to realize that the alcohol he used to imbibe every night often resulted in a morning brain fog. He hit the button on the offending alarm and walked to the bathroom to start his morning routine. After dressing, he went to the kitchen to make his Guava Juice smoothie. Sitting on the barstool at the breakfast bar as he drank the concoction, he scrolled through his phone and looked at his work emails. The clock on the microwave showed 7:45. Brian realized this was easily half an hour earlier than he usually was ready to leave for Kinnetik. 

 

As he walked into the diner, he made his way to the familiar booth in the back. Emmett and Ted were already there and looked up in surprise at his early arrival. 

 

"My my, you're here early," Emmett said as he noticed the restful look on Brian's face. Emmett took notice of people's appearance, although he rarely commented unless things seemed off. Many people thought Emmett was very superficial, but those who knew him understood he had a keen eye for detail and noticed more than he let on. 

 

"Sobriety does that to me. Since I'm not hanging out at the bars in the evening; I get to bed a lot earlier. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I don't wake up with a pounding headache or an achy body," Brian said tongue in cheek.

 

"I'm so proud of you Brian. I know that it must be hard staying away from the bars. However, are you handling celibacy?" Emmett asked, genuinely curious.

 

"Honeycutt, who said I was celibate? Just because I haven't been at the bars doesn't mean that I'm not tricking. I can pick up tricks anywhere. The stud of Liberty Avenue may not be trolling Liberty Avenue, but I'm still the stud." Brian bristled at the insinuation that he was celibate. He had a reputation to uphold and to acknowledge that his "stud" status was in jeopardy was unacceptable. 

 

Debbie came up to the table, smacking her gum as usual. Taking out her ever-present notepad, she looked at Brian and said, "You're here awfully early. Have an early morning meeting?"

 

"Since when does everybody keep tabs on my arrivals and departures? I just happened to wake up early and figured I'd get into the office. Are we going to stand here all morning and chat about my daily routines or are you going to take my order?" Brian said with a little bit of irritation in his voice.

 

"Okay, don't get your panties in a twist. What will you have?" Debbie took her pen out of her apron and started writing before Brian spoke.

 

"I'll have an egg-white omelet with dry wheat toast," Brian said as he placed the menu back in the silver holding rack that sat at the back of the booth.

 

"Of course you will. I really don't need to ask," Debbie said, as she looked at Emmett, waiting for him to order.

 

"I'll have pancakes and a side of bacon," Emmett said. "I don't order the same thing every day. I like a little spice in my life."

 

"I'll have two eggs scrambled hard and white toast," Ted said.

 

"And bring us some coffee. We all need our morning coffee. Although I'm not sure why we want this coffee as is it is usually burnt and overcooked," Brian said, purposefully forgetting to add ‘please' to his request.

 

Debbie smiled and said, "This isn't some fancy restaurant. If you don't like it you can go down the street and pay five bucks for some fancy latte. I'll get your orders up in a minute." Debbie wasn't fazed by his words, being used to Brian's attitudes.

 

"You're looking good. I guess staying away from the bars agrees with you," Emmett said as voiced his earlier thoughts. 

 

Ted was surprised that Emmett had mentioned Brian's sobriety, unaware that Brian had told anyone but himself. He knew that he was keeping the information away from Michael and Lindsay, but Emmett was the biggest gossip around. 

 

Brian gave Emmett a sideways glance. He hadn't mentioned his journey into sobriety by name, but the words simply implied it. 

 

"Honeycutt..." Brian said with as much emphasis on the name as he could without shouting. He ran his finger over his lips in a zipping motion and Emmett nodded. 

 

"Okay, I get the message. But really Brian, you are looking relaxed and those fine lines are starting to fade around your eyes," Emmett said, acknowledging Brian's warning and throwing in a little teasing.

 

Brian ignored the comment, not wanting anyone to overhear their conversation. The diner was busy, even at that hour of the morning and there were always people paying attention to the "Stud of Liberty Avenue". 

 

Turning toward Ted, Brian said, "When we get to work, I'll need those numbers that we were discussing yesterday." Brian hoped that Ted could understand the reference to their conversation yesterday regarding contacting the lawyer. He wanted Ted to tally up the total amount he had provided to Mel and Linds for Gus. 

 

"Sure thing. I should be able to gather that information in less than half an hour," Ted said as he nodded his head in understanding. He was proud of Brian for his involvement in Gus' life and his forethought regarding his continued access to him. He thought Brian was justified in his reluctance to tell Lindsay about his sobriety. He'd been an unwilling witness to her machinations on too many occasions. He'd always wondered why Brian put up with her manipulations, but now understood that he wanted to protect himself against her whimsy regarding access to Gus. While Ted did not want children, watching Brian with Gus made him appreciate what a child could do for a parent. 

 

"So how was your night, Em?" Ted asked, hoping to return the conversation back to more neutral ground. 

 

"Good. Drewsie was home for a change and we spent a nice night in," Emmett said as he got a dreamy look in his eyes. "I never thought my Drewsie would settle down, but, everyone would be so shocked to know how gentle..."

 

"Stop right there, Honeycutt. I do not need to know about your sex life. It makes my dick soft," Brian said as he rolled his eyes and looked toward Ted to change the subject. 

 

Emmett just smiled at his friend. "I know you are just jealous. Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to have someone waiting for you at home?"

 

"No," Brian said. He was grateful that Debbie chose that moment to bring the food. He could concentrate on eating and not continue this conversation. 

 

After eating, he waved Debbie over for his bill. Without glancing at the total, he put down a $20.00 bill and walked toward the front of the diner. Crossing the street, he walked to Kinnetik and went to his office. Ted left shortly after Brian, eager to gather the information that Brian wanted. 

 

About 45 minutes later, Ted knocked on Brian's door and brought in a few spreadsheets. "Here is the information we discussed, Bri. I took the liberty of breaking it down by month and category for those deposits that we know the purpose. In the 10 years that you have been giving money to them, you usually provide over $1000 a month to them. Each time Lindsay has asked for money for a specific purpose, I have noted it in the accounts. On any given month, you have provided $500 for after school care, $250.00 for enrichment activities and another $250.00 for clothing and food assistance. In talking to my sister, her ex only provides $400 a month and she has two kids. You're not even court ordered to support Gus"

 

"Theodore, I don't need a court to tell me to support my son," Brian said, bristling at the insinuation.

 

"I know. You have never balked at any request from Lindsay regarding money for Gus. I'm just saying that any judge would have a hard time denying that you have financially supported him as well as spending every other weekend with him. I think if Lindsay balked at giving you access to Gus, she wouldn't have much of an argument." 

 

"I'd still like to talk to the lawyer. If she gives me any grief, I know I will have the law behind me." Smiling at his words, Brian continued, "I would have never thought that I would be having this discussion with anyone 10 years ago. Who would have thunk that Brian Kinney would be concerned about his continued involvement in his son's life?"

 

"I know, Bri, but you enjoy the time you spend with Gus. I've never said anything, but when you talk about him or the things the two of you do together, your face lights up. No matter what anyone says, he is important to you," Ted said as he placed the spreadsheet on Brian's desk. "I'll leave you to make your calls. I know we have that conference call with Brown Athletics at 11:00, and you'll want time to review their file before the call." Ted turned, closing the door as he left the office.

 

Brian picked up the spreadsheets and studied them for a few moments. He had plenty of money and didn't begrudge Gus having the best, but based on the numbers, Mel and Linds should have had plenty of money to buy him new cleats every week, let alone pay for clothes that didn't come from Target. He decided that he would be more involved in how the money was spent on Gus. He contemplated cutting back on the money and buying all of Gus' clothing and decided that it was a good strategy. He hated seeing his son in clothes bought at a retail chain when he could easily be wearing higher quality clothing. Also, if he bought all Gus' clothing, he would hopefully put an end to the constant whining that Lindsay did as she complained about the expense of buying new clothes and shoes. It seemed to him that Gus frequently asked Brian for new clothes stating that his mothers balked and complained when he had outgrown his old ones. Happy with his decision, he reviewed the list of lawyers, reviewing Ted's comments about each one. He went on the internet and reviewed a few of the choices and found one that listed working with Same-Sex couples. He didn't need some homophobic asshole dealing with his situation. While he did not usually choose a business based on their social views or their practices in working with Gay and Lesbians, in this situation, he wanted to utilize a firm that demonstrated some commitment to that sector of the population. Choosing one, he called the number of the office.

 

"Beroes Law Center. How may I direct your call?"

 

"I'd like to make an appointment."

 

"May I ask what type of legal query you are seeking? We want to ensure that you are talking to one of our lawyers that specializes in the field."

 

"I have a visitation concern."

 

"Do you have a preference for an attorney? All of our staff are experienced in this area."

 

"My child lives with his mothers but my visitation is at their discretion. I'd like to talk about my rights. I'd like to talk to someone who has experience in this type of situation."

 

"Our lawyers have over 50 years of combined experience. We understand the intricacies of the law regarding same-sex couples. I have an opening tomorrow afternoon at 3:00."

 

"That will be acceptable."

 

"What is your name, sir?"

 

"Brian Kinney."

 

"Thank you, Mr. Kinney. We are located at 4054 Penn Avenue. We look forward to meeting with you tomorrow."

 

"Goodbye," Brian said as he hung up the phone. 

 

Tomorrow, he would hopefully have an answer regarding his rights. Depending on the discussion with the lawyer, he might seek permanent legal protection for his relationship and access to Gus. Now that he wasn't drinking, he did find that he had more time on his hands. Both Justin and Ted had told him he would need to rethink his day to day life and find some meaningful activities. He was beginning to realize that without his daily attendance at Babylon and Woody's he had large blocks of time to pursue other interests. The problem was that he didn't have any idea what those other interests might be. His life had consisted of working and tricking. He hadn't ever thought about other things. He saw Gus on the weekends and had him overnight once a month. 

 

Looking at the clock on his computer screen, he realized that it was close to 11:00 and he had to get ready for his conference call. He would have to think about his life at a later time. The remainder of the day went by quickly and when Brian's phone alarm went off at 6:00, he was surprised that it was that late. He finished the email that he was writing, hit send, and shut down his computer. 

 

He wanted to talk to Ted and provide him with an update. Walking into his office, Ted looked up as he saw Brian in his peripheral vision. 

 

"I was really pleased with the new contract from Brown Athletics. I think we have a lot of potential to expand the contract in the next few years," Ted said. He often sat in on the conference calls with long term clients. It helped him keep a pulse on the financials of the company. He remembered when Kinneitk first started with their advertising and they had almost lost the account when Drew came out of the closet. Brian was instrumental in saving the account and supporting Drew's choices. Now, Emmett and Drew were a long time couple. It always amazed him to think about how their group had changed over the years. 

 

"Did you do anything with the spreadsheets?" Ted didn't want to mention the purpose of the information, even though he knew that the employees at Kinnetik practiced discretion and were always held to secrecy. Due to the proprietary nature of their work, no one could talk about a campaign or other things that occurred in the business for fear of sharing private information. While Brian was an excellent boss and provided a lot of supportive services to his employees, he did not make a habit of sharing any personal information with his staff. As far as he knew, he hadn't shared his sobriety journey with Cynthia, his personal assistant. Although, he was fairly certain that she had noticed some important changes in their boss. 

 

"I looked at your research and did a little more on my own. I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon with Beroes law firm," Brian said. He walked to the window in Ted's office and looked out at the street. Their offices were not in a high rise so there was not a view of the cityscape. Brian had chosen to convert a bathhouse in the gay and lesbian section of town instead of the conventional high rise that many advertising agencies chose. He wanted to stand out and be noticed. He looked outside and saw a few people walking down the street. There was a woman and her partner pushing a baby stroller, a gay couple holding hands and two men talking, appearing to have a heated discussion as evidenced by their active hand movements. He had never really paid a lot of attention to people, but after spending time at AA meetings and talking to Justin, he was beginning to notice his surroundings more. 

 

"Their website boasts that they are familiar with the legal concerns of same-sex couples. Normally, I could care less about their acceptance, but in this situation, I wanted someone who at least says they serve that population." Brian had put the words "Same-sex" in air quotes, even though he knew Ted knew what he was talking about. 

 

"I'm not sure how many situations are like mine. I would imagine that most of their clients are the ones that are married and are wanting to dissolve the union. I have zero interest in marrying a woman or for that matter a man." Brian scowled at the thought of anyone associating marriage and him in the same sentence.

 

"And, truth be told, I would have told you 10 years ago, I had no interest in being a father. I still don't want to be married and can't imagine being with the same person all the time, but I do want to be involved in Gus's life." He smiled, remembering the movie night they recently shared. He really enjoyed hanging out with Gus, and never saw it as a chore.

 

"It's ironic. I would imagine that people who drink are estranged from their families, and are threatened with continued access to their children as a result of their drinking. But, here I am and I'm just the opposite. Now that I have stopped drinking, I'm worried that my access to my son will diminish. I'm fearful that his mother will find out about my accident and deny me access to him."

 

"Really Bri, they are one and the same. For those parents who drink, their families are concerned for their children's safety and want to limit the amount of time they are put in a position where they might get in a car with a parent who drinks," Ted explained. He didn't like contradicting Brian, but in this case, he felt that Brian really needed to admit why he was so concerned about Lindsay.

 

"I think you're afraid that Lindsay will find out about your drinking and forbid your access to Gus. Lindsay has always known that you drank, but she turned a blind eye since you appeared to be invincible and never had any consequences from it. When she hears that you are attending AA, she should be assured that Gus won't be put in harm's way," Ted said.

 

Brian listened to his friend but didn't wholly agree with his statement. He held out his hand and touched his finger to the index finger of the other hand. "What you say is true Ted, but she would manage to twist things. She is always looking for some reason to deny me access to Gus. I could see her deciding that I would not be successful in my efforts to lead a sober life. She would throw my attendance at Babylon and Woody's in my face, and try to talk both of us into believing that I could never stay away from them."

 

He touched his finger to the second finger on the other hand and continued, "If I couldn't stay away, then I would return to drinking and therefore put Gus in jeopardy. That is why it is so critical that I investigate my legal rights. I've known Lindsay for a long time and she isn't to be trusted. I think she likes to hold Gus as a bargaining tool to get what she wants."

 

"Bargaining tool. I don't understand," Ted said.

 

"Lindsay has always wanted to be rich and show off her nice things. After looking at the spreadsheets you gave me, I believe that she uses Gus as an excuse for me to supplement her bank account." Brian went over to Ted's mini-fridge and grabbed a bottle of water for himself and Ted. Placing Ted's on the desk, he continued his explanation. 

 

"While I assume Melanie makes a good salary as a lawyer, Lindsay wants to live the life of a country club wife. She has to work so that they can live the way they do, but it is not the high standard that she wants."

 

Brian frowned as he remembered several country club dinners they attended while in college. She had begged him to attend with her so her parents would stop pushing eligible men at her feet. By that time, she knew she was a Lesbian but hadn't come out to her parents. Bringing Brian, a good looking man and star of the soccer team as her date had placated her family.

 

"Since she couldn't get me to marry her, and believe me she tried while we were in college, she asked me to father her child. By having my child, she hoped that I would support him and give her additional money to do so." Brian drank the water in the water bottle, finishing it in several gulps. He'd been drinking more water and wondered if that was a result of less alcohol. 

 

"She obviously isn't using the money I give her only for Gus. I looked at the numbers on the spreadsheet you gave me, and with the kind of money I'm providing, Gus shouldn't be coming to me to buy a lot of his stuff. It's her way to have the nice things she wants, but she is about to get a rude awakening."

 

Ted looked at Brian, raising his eyebrows at the statement. Brian had shared his concerns about Lindsay and his money a few times, but he didn't think Brian would do anything about it. "What are you thinking?"

 

"I'm going to stop giving her money for clothing for Gus. I take him shopping almost every time I have him. He is always in need of something, and he tells me that his moms balk at buying whatever it is, telling him he just got a new one of XYZ a few months ago. She can't really fight me on that if I buy all of his clothing, including his athletic stuff."

 

"True. But don't you think there will be a backlash? I've seen her come in here and tell you she needs money for this or that," Ted asked.

 

"I can always tell her to give me the information and I will send the check. She can't really argue with that one. This way I'm sure the money will go to where she says it's needed and not to her bank account to pay for some new dress for an event. I'm tired of being the bank of Brian."

 

Ted looked at his computer and saw it was 6:30. "Bri, I hate to cut you off, but Blake and I have tickets for the Opera tonight. Can we resume this in the morning?" Ted clicked on a few X's to close the windows he had open on his computer. 

 

"Shit. I have a meeting at 7:30. I better hustle myself." Going into his private bathroom, he changed into more casual clothing, leaving his suit to hang in the small closet located just off the entrance to the room. He always kept an extra suit and a casual change of clothing at the office. These had come in handy many times. 

 

Brian went to his car and drove to the meeting. He thought about his conversation with Ted. He was slightly surprised at his admittance that Lindsay used him as a bank to fund her lifestyle. He was more surprised by his statement that he wasn't going to allow her to continue. Sobriety was certainly having some unexpected consequences in his life. He was finally doing something to hopefully guarantee his access to Gus, and maybe put a brake on Lindsay using him to fund her desires. 

 

Getting out of his car, he was excited to share with Justin the events of the last 24 hours. He hoped Justin would be proud of him for getting rid of the liquor and for taking control to legally have Gus in his life. As he walked to the room where the meeting was held, he wondered when he began to want someone's approval for his actions. 

 

TBC


	19. Sharing His Success

He got in his car and looked at his phone to see the list of meetings and their location. The meeting for that day was about 20 minutes away and started at 7:30. He didn’t have time to stop for food, but he knew Justin would have already honed in on the local cuisine and he could eat afterward as they shared their proverbial coffee. He didn’t allow himself to think about his plans for dinner. He arrived a little after 7:00 and spotted the familiar blond head in the small group of people that were congregating by the traditional coffee table.

“Hey,” Brian said as he grabbed a bottle of water instead of coffee. He could smell the coffee, its aroma was pleasant.

“Hi. Have a good day?” Justin smiled at Brian, happy to see him. It had been about two weeks since Brian had started coming to meetings and Justin always looked forward to helping him in his journey. Being a sponsor had a dual role; helping the newly sober individual and it also helped the sponsor as they worked through the higher steps of the program.

“Actually, I had a very good day. Maybe there is something to this sobriety thing, after all,” Brian said, tongue in cheek. He opened his bottle and took a long drink, not realizing how thirsty he was from all the talking he’d been doing over the last few hours.

“Everyone, let’s sit down and get started,” said a tall woman dressed in faded blue jeans and a t-shirt with the Pittsburgh Steelers logo on it. She had dark brown hair, pulled into a casual pony-tail that made her appear young. Her voice had the familiar rasp that was common with people who smoked a lot. While Brian’s initial thought would have been that the speaker couldn’t possibly have knowledge that would benefit him; he had learned that meetings always gave him something to think about. He turned his head toward the speaker, putting his entire focus on her. 

All the participants sat in a circle and looked toward the speaker. “Anyone new here tonight?” She asked, looking around the room at the participants. When no one raised their hand, she said, “Welcome. I’m Teri and I’m going to be the leader for tonight. Tonight’s topic is Inadequacy.”

Teri stopped talking while she looked around at the members. She noticed a few nodding heads and was pleased that all eyes were on her. “Why do we drink? If you ask anyone in this room why they drink, you would most likely get a different answer from every participant. However, I’m going to dig a little deeper into the answer and state that everyone here drinks to avoid contact with others. We drink to avoid socialization with other people and to hide the knowledge from ourselves and others that we are unworthy of other people’s friendships or love.”

Several people in the group started murmuring to each other and she waited until the small conversations died down. “I’m not here to psychoanalyze any of you and I don’t hold a degree in any sort of therapy, but I stand by my statement. I encourage each of you to ask yourself how many of you were told you were unworthy?” She didn’t expect people to raise their hands as if they were in a classroom, but she did see quite a few nodding heads. “Were you told by a school counselor that you wouldn’t amount to anything? Or maybe it was a parent who constantly belittled you? Maybe it was a boss or some of your so-called friends or classmates?” Teri had been leading groups for over 3 years and understood that pausing frequently allowed the attendees to process the words. When the leaders of the group talked for more than a minute or two, their words didn’t have time to really penetrate the listener’s minds. She glanced around the small circle and saw that all the heads were turned toward her. “How many of you feel that you are worthy of happiness? People in our lives have failed us and we don’t think we deserve happiness. We have turned to liquor to manage our pain and our supposed inadequacies. Once we took the step to stop drinking, we are faced with a life where we still question ourselves and our worth.” Teri decided that this introduction was sufficient to instigate meaningful conversation. She remembered the first time she heard those ideas spoken at a meeting and was astounded and amazed. She had always believed that she was the only one in the world that had that experience. She didn’t think she deserved to be happy or that anyone really cared about her. 

“I started drinking when my father kicked me out. He found out I was gay and said that no son of his could be gay. I either quit being gay or leave,” Justin said, remembering the night as if it happened yesterday. The scathing words coming out of his father’s mouth, as well as the slap on his face, were still fresh in his mind. He put his hand to his face as if it happened just a moment ago, rather than over four years ago. It still stung, even though he told himself that his father never cared for him. 

“So you felt that you weren’t worthy of his love and used liquor to escape,” Teri said. She wanted to connect his statement to her opening one.

Justin nodded his head, refusing to acknowledge the hurt his father’s rejection had wrought on his life.

“Hi, I’m John. I was the class clown. Everybody laughed at my antics, but no one wanted to be my friend. I started drinking in high school; then I became the cool guy,” said the man sitting next to Justin. He was wearing a button-down blue shirt and khakis. He ran his left hand through his dark brown hair, pushing it out of his eyes. 

“Drinking made you cool. Your classmates didn’t connect with you when you were the class cut up so you found a different way to make friends,” another man commented. “I’m Calvin and I understand. I have problems writing, you know getting my thoughts down on paper. My teachers always told me that I needed to try harder. My kid, Sam, has the same problem but the teachers in his school tell me he has a learning problem and they’ve been working with him. He’s been doing a lot better. If only someone had done that for me….” Calvin didn’t continue his statement, hoping the group understood the unspoken words. 

‘Hi, I’m Brian. My dad told me I should have been aborted since I wasn’t wanted. And then, since I was obviously born, he used me as his personal punching bag,” Brian said. This was the first time he’d felt compelled to add a comment to the meeting. He’d been told all his life that he wasn’t wanted, but when he drank he tried to forget that no one cared. The words felt foreign to his ears as he had never admitted the power that they had when his father said them. His stomach clenched as he remembered the feeling he used to get as a young boy when his father said those words. He heard the yelling of the angry man as he spouted his vitriol aimed at his unwanted offspring. It took all of his willpower to not place his hands over his ears as he did as a young boy and teen as he tried to block the words coming out of his father’s mouth.

Justin was both pleased and surprised that Brian had spoken. He wanted to comment on the disclosure but refrained. Turning his attention back to the meeting, he glanced around the circle seeing who would talk next.

Several other members of the group added their comments and shared their thoughts. It was getting close to 8:45 and Teri spoke again, “It seems that everyone can relate to our topic tonight. But, let’s take it a little further. Hiding in a bottle may have helped us feel wanted or helped us hide from our pain, but now that we are not drinking, we have to begin to love ourselves and recognize our self-worth. We would not have had the courage to walk through that door if we were still drinking.” Teri pointed toward the door in the back of the room and watched as most people looked toward the door and nodded. “We wanted to stop hurting, stop feeling that we were unworthy. Our decision to stop drinking was the first step to feeling worthy. We wanted a better life and decided that we deserved one. Everyone has something to share. Thanks for attending and as always coffee is in the back as well as the contribution jar.” She smiled and made eye contact briefly with all the participants in the meeting. 

The people talked among themselves for several minutes and then moved toward the back table where the contribution jar and the coffee were located. Brian did not move from his seat.

“Powerful talk tonight,” Justin commented. He wanted to help Brian process the content. He was pleased to see that Brian had participated as that was important to his journey. When someone talked at a meeting, it meant that they were exploring their thoughts and open to working the steps. He knew that Brian had been listening to the content at the meetings as evidenced by their post-meeting conversations. 

“Do you really believe that everyone drinks because they don’t feel they are loved?” Brian asked, his voice expressing his skepticism. “Come on, there are a lot of people who are real jerks. Based on that explanation, there should be a lot of alcoholics out there.” Brian had obviously been mulling over the content of the discussion.

“There are a lot of alcoholics out there. But I think Teri’s point is that alcoholics don’t feel worthy of love. They have heard that they are worthless, unwanted or in my case, not my father’s ideal son, so his love wasn’t available anymore.” Justin’s heart hurt at the thought of his father, but he had learned that he had value despite the man’s rejection.

“When he kicked me out, I didn’t feel like I had anything of value to offer. He told me I wouldn’t amount to anything. I turned toward the bottle so I didn’t have to feel the hurt and rejection.”

“So you’re saying that all alcoholics feel unworthy and turn to the bottle for condolence. They can control the bottle, or at least they think they can. They can’t control the world’s thoughts about them. But then, they realize that drinking isn’t the solution; it doesn’t make the pain go away,” Brian said as he mulled over Justin’s words and the statements of the participants in the meeting.

“Yes. Loving oneself and giving yourself permission to feel good about yourself is one of the hardest things to do. But if you want to be successful in this journey, you’ve got to find a way to accept yourself and not hide in the bottle,” Justin said as he remembered his early sobriety journey. Justin looked toward the back table and saw that most of the participants had left the hall. “Let’s continue this at the diner. I’m starving and didn’t have time to eat.”

“Okay,” Brian said and followed Justin to the coffee table where they each made a donation before leaving the room. 

“You drive. I remember the place we went to last week had for shit parking,” Brian said. 

Justin nodded and pointed to where he’d parked his car. “Brian, by coming to your first meeting, you unconsciously decided you were worth something. You’ve told me you want to be in Gus’s life. That means that you are important to him and him to you.”

“Okay. You do have a good memory. Gus is the reason I’m here. But how does that translate to keeping myself out of the bottle? If you ask Mikey or Lindsey, or any of the people I hang out with, I’m an asshole.” The words flowed easily out of his mouth, half-joking, half-serious. He had heard the words so many times that their meaning had become a part of his persona. 

Justin stopped in front of his car and turned toward Brian, “Are you an asshole or is that just a persona you put on to protect yourself from being hurt? You willingly stopped drinking to protect your son. That doesn’t sound like an asshole to me,” Justin said, challenging Brian’s statement. He wasn’t aware that Brian’s friends called him an asshole to his face. It was no wonder that the man felt unworthy or unloved. He hoped he could change Brian’s feelings about himself to one of worthiness and hopefully love. It was important to love yourself; otherwise, you had limited love to share with others. 

Instead of responding, Brian got in the car, shut the door and put on his seatbelt. Justin did the same and drove the few blocks to the small diner. They entered and just like last time, Brian felt a sense of deja vu. If he closed his eyes, it felt just like Liberty Diner He was glad it wasn’t Liberty Diner as he would never consider talking about himself there. He was always amazed that he opened up so much with Justin, but Justin was easy to talk to and did not judge him. 

After they ordered, Justin picked up the conversation where they left off, hoping Brian was still willing to talk. “You said earlier that all your friends think your an asshole. Why?”

“Because I only care about me. I come late to get-togethers at Debbie’s and I pick up a lot of tricks. They just accept that this is who I am but they tell me that I’m an asshole,” Brian said.

“But if you were such an asshole, why did Lindsay want you as the father of her child? I can’t imagine she would want an asshole for its father,” Justin asked, but he was trying to get Brian to see his worth. He realized he really didn’t know if Brian was “the asshole” that he proclaimed to be, but he doubted that was really the case. No one who was an asshole would go to the time and trouble that Brian had. If he was such an “asshole” like he proclaimed, he would not care about his child and having continued access to him. 

“She wanted to marry me. Remember, I told you about that. Having me as the sperm donor got her as close as she could get,” Brian said, explaining the arrangement again. Brian thought about their time together in college; his willingness to pose as her beard so she could save face with her family and the few times they actually slept together. He’d regretted his role in her ruse, but when it eventually resulted in his participation in her desire for a child, he was happy with the results. He hadn’t thought he would want to be involved with the child and had originally sabotaged Lindsay’s requests to visit. However, somewhere along the way, he stopped avoiding Gus and now admitted that Gus was the reason he was contemplating changing his life. 

“Still doesn’t make sense, Brian, if she really thought you were an asshole, she would not have wanted to marry you or be the father of her child. Also, if she really thought you were an asshole, she would most likely not let you spend time with Gus,” Justin said, trying to get Brian to see the error in his thinking. 

“I guess that is true,” Brian said. “Lindsay is fickle, but she loves Gus and wouldn’t want him hurt.”

“I’m not sure about your friend, Michael. It seems to me that he sees you as his validation for living. I guess even in his eyes you are valuable. He ties his self worth to you. That is pretty impressive and appears to me that he values you as a friend.”

Brian was amazed at the accuracy of Justin’s evaluations, especially since he had never met his friends and could only go by what Brian told him. “Yeah, Michael thinks I am perfect. His motto is “I’m Brian’s best friend”. That about sums up his role in life. Deb thinks Michael can do no wrong and any time he screws up blames it on me. Since I’m the responsible one, I get blamed for any problem he has. I’m surprised that he hasn’t succumbed to life inside of a bottle. He thinks he is the world’s best friend and can do no wrong.” Brian started thinking about how Justin’s presence at Babylon might change his impression of him. Brian was in his element, his playground when he was there. He hoped that he wouldn’t disappoint Justin. He would hate for Justin to judge him unworthy. He wondered when he started worrying about what people, especially Justin, thought about him. The waitress brought their waters and silverware. They both drank the cool liquid quickly and the waitress refilled it a few minutes later. At that hour of the night, there were few patrons. 

“As for your other friends, I’ve never met them, but I wonder about them too. You told me that Ted, your accountant has supported you in your journey with sobriety. He encouraged you to attend a meeting and get a sponsor. Someone who doesn’t see you as valuable and worthwhile wouldn’t bother with their encouragement.”

“Ted is a good friend. I called him last night after I got home. I started questioning why I still had liquor in my house, just like you asked me.” Brian took the water glass in his hand and twirled it, leaving a wet mark on the table. “He came over and helped me pour it out. It was almost 10:00 when I called, pretty late for a work night, but he came. No questions asked. He didn’t ask if I needed or wanted him to come, he just said he was coming.” Brian replayed the call in his mind and remembered the relief he felt when Ted said he was coming over. “He even offered to stay on the phone with me while he drove over…. In case I was tempted before he got there.” Brian had intended to tell Justin about last night. He was really proud of himself for taking that step. But he hadn’t expected to tell him like that. He had it all planned out in his head, what he would say and how he would broach the subject. But as the saying goes, ‘the best-laid plans of mice and men’. 

Justin smiled a megawatt smile and patted Brian on the back. “I’m proud of you. Ted obviously doesn’t think you are an asshole and considers you a friend. If he didn’t, he would not have come out that late. Friendship, by definition, requires back and forth reciprocity.” 

“I’m his boss,” Brian said in defense, trying to downplay his actions. He had been really proud of himself and his willingness to throw away the liquor. When he started to talk about the event, he wanted to backpedal, trying to maintain his vision of himself as unloveable, unworthy. 

“Yes, but as an employee, he wouldn’t need to volunteer to come to pour out your liquor. Brian, he thinks you are worth his time. Lindsay thinks you are good father material. Deb thinks you belong in her ‘family’. They all care about you.”

Brian listened and heard Justin’s words. He did have people that thought he was worthy. 

“But, how do I believe that I’m worthy?” Brian asked, genuinely wanting a magic formula, a road map, something to guide him in his journey.

Justin wanted to shout from the rooftops. He had gotten past Brian’s walls. Brian had finally asked the ultimate question. How can he believe he is worthy? This was the breakthrough that he’d hoped would come. Before Brian could rebuild his life, he had to believe that he had something to offer. 

The waitress brought their food and both men started to eat. This gave Justin some much needed time to formulate his answer. 

TBC


	20. Worthiness

‘But, how do I believe that I’m worthy?’ Justin ate a few bites of his roast beef sandwich as he mulled over Brian’s question. The sourdough bread was fresh and the slight tang of the horseradish sauce gave the meat a spicy flavor. His nostrils flared as he bit into a piece where the prep person had spread the sauce especially thick. Glancing around the quiet diner, he saw two occupied tables. One table toward the front had a couple of teen girls giggling and looking at their phones. The other table had a lone occupant, an older gentleman with graying hair and wearing a business suit who was reading a small, local newspaper. Brian wasn’t looking at Justin. Instead, he was attacking his chicken salad with a vengeance, stabbing the lettuce and alternately mixing the concoction to locate pieces of chicken or cheese. His eyes didn’t look at their surroundings or move from the bowl in front of him. 

In the few weeks that Justin had been meeting him at AA, Brian had appeared open to the messages of the meetings and they had talked about the concepts after the meetings. Even tonight, they started their evening by discussing the meeting’s topic, but Brian’s question seemed to result in his shutting down as if he were embarrassed by his question.

“Brian….” Justin said softly, wanting Brian to look at him before he started talking. 

Brian glanced up at Justin for a few moments, acknowledging Justin’s unspoken request to talk, but then returned to his salad as if he were a starving man and hadn’t eaten in days, rather than a few hours.

“I’d like to talk about your question,” Justin said, not giving Brian a chance to say no. Justin had learned that if he asked someone ‘do you want to talk about a specific statement or action’; the answer would most likely be, ‘no’. He knew that Brian did want to talk, or he would not have asked. His avoidance of looking at Justin confirmed his reluctance to explore the topic.

Brian ate a few additional bites of his salad, finding the last of the chicken in the pile of lettuce in the bowl. He wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone if it was good or not, as it was an easy way to distract him and avoid talking. He regretted his question,he knew that he was unworthy and didn’t deserve good things. It appeared that Justin wasn’t going to let it go unanswered. Bracing himself for more rejection, he put down his fork and nodded. Voicing his own opinion of his worthiness seemed to be too much to ask, and he steeled himself for Justin’s rejection.

“I drank to escape my father’s rejection. He threw me out, told me I was an abomination, and that I couldn’t be his son. I felt worthless and unlovable.” Brian listened to Justin. He nodded his head but wondered what this had to do with him. “When I was drinking, his rejection didn’t hurt. I hid in the bottle of rum. Alcohol didn’t care if I was gay, if I was an artist, or if I was a banker. It didn’t care that I acted horribly toward a patron, slept with every guy who looked at me or trashed my studio. In fact, my drinking just confirmed what a terrible person I was.” Brian mulled the words in his mind. He thought about his own drinking. 

“So I drink because my parents didn’t want me,” Brian said. He was not asking a question but confirming Justin’s answer. “So every kid that has parents who reject them should be an alcoholic? That would mean there were a shit ton of alcoholics out there.”

“There are a lot of alcoholics and people who abuse drugs, too. But I’m not saying that every kid with shitty parents is going to end up an alcoholic or drug user. But everyone who drinks thinks they are unworthy. That might start when they are young or it could come later in life, but it's something we all have in common,” Justin felt the knot in his stomach as he remembered the rejection. Even though it had been 3 years since his father had kicked him out, that night was forever emblazoned in his memory. The yelling, screaming, and tears were still vivid in his mind. He still remembered wiping his face with his shirt sleeve, his father calling his a sissy, and telling him grown men don’t cry. He absently rubbed his elbow where he landed when his father pushed him out the door, throwing him and his clothes on the front lawn as if he was something rotten that belonged in the trash. He could still hear the slamming door, even three years later. 

“No one really liked me when I was drinking, including me, but I didn’t care. I was unlovable; my father told me so. It didn’t matter that I was an artist and recognized as an up and coming talent to watch. All that mattered was that my father thought I was unworthy because I was gay,” Justin said as the familiar pang of rejection rumbled through his chest. He hoped his words were resonating in Brian. 

“At the meeting everyone who talked shared their experiences with rejection and feelings of worthlessness. As Teri said, we all are using alcohol to escape the pain of rejection,” Justin said, hoping that Brian was actually listening to their conversation. Justin had barely touched his food and heard the rumble of his stomach protesting. He grinned at Brian as the loud growl emanated from his midsection. After eating a few bites of his burger and drinking some water, he said, “Brian, walking in the door to attend your first AA meeting was your subconscious telling you that you were worthy. If you didn’t want to be a good father to Gus and keep him safe, you would still be drinking today.”

Brian shook his head in disagreement. “To me, walking into the first meeting just showed everyone how pathetic my life had become,” Brian said.

“Sure, you wrapped your car around a tree, but you wanted a better life. You wanted to be sober so you wouldn’t worry that you might hurt Gus. That action was taking care of you. You decided that you were worth being sober, being safe.” Justin smiled at Brian. He heard the bell on the door jingle as the older gentleman left the diner. Looking around, he saw that the teenage girls had also vacated the building. It was just the two of them in the dining area. The hum of the fluorescent light buzzed in the background. The waitress was at the other end of the dining room, sitting at a table, surrounded by half-filled and empty salt and pepper shakers. Appearing intent on her job of filling all the containers, it gave them a semblance of privacy. 

“Attending AA makes me worthy. That’s a crock of shit,” Brian said. He was so used to denigrating his worth, he had difficulty believing Justin. He played with the water glass, twirling it in his hand. The sweat from the condensation on the glass hiding the clamminess from his hand. 

“Why does Lindsay bring Gus to spend the night with you?” Justin asked, hoping to show Brian that he was worthy.

“What has Gus got to do with this conversation?” Brian bristled at the mention of Gus. He wanted his son out of the conversation, especially when it had to do with his drinking.

“Work with me, Brian. You’ve told me your history with Lindsay. She has the desire for the three of you making a model family. She can’t have that since you don’t want to be married, nor do you want a female partner.” Justin paused, watching Brian nod in agreement.

“Sure, I’ll go with that statement. Once she had Gus, she was always after me to get to know my son. ‘He needs to know his father, Brian. You need to spend time with him. I need money for x,y, or z. You want Gus to have the best. Ad nauseam.”

“Lindsay wants you to be in Gus’ life. Mind you, she definitely sounds like she has ulterior motives, wanting the white picket fence and all, but ultimately she has pushed for you to have a relationship with your son. She can’t think you are a terrible person if she wants you to be involved with Gus,” Justin said.

The bell on the front door rang and a young couple came in. The sign at the front door had been changed to tell the patrons to seat themselves. Looking around the diner, they chose the far end of the dining area, seating themselves at the opposite end from Brian and Justin. Justin noticed them walking in and was thankful they chose to be seated on the other end of the dining room. He didn’t want Brian to shut down again, giving the excuse of being overheard. 

“But I know she would forbid me to see Gus if she knew that I wrapped my car around a tree. She would tell me that I couldn’t be trusted to not repeat the action if Gus were with me. So your example is flawed,” Brian said, lowering his eyes away from Justin’s face. 

“Brian, we are not having the same conversation. Please look at me,” Justin said, deciding that he needed to use a different tactic.

Reluctantly, Brian did as Justin asked. 

“I don’t know your friends, and only know them from what you have shared with me. They may be horrible people or they may be the best friends in the world. But I do know myself. I’ve lived with me for 28 years, and am an expert on my behavior.” Justin smiled.

Brian laughed too. 

“I know that you are worthy. If I didn’t think you were worth my time, I wouldn’t be here with you. I’ve been in your shoes, felt the despair and worthlessness, but I can tell you the first step to loving yourself is to walk through that meeting room door. You want a better life, a life where you aren’t afraid of hurting people you care about. I can’t speak for anyone but me and I say you are definitely worthy.”

Brian could not argue with that statement. Justin didn’t have a history with him as the ‘family’ did. He couldn’t point to the time that Brian did this or came late to an event. He couldn’t argue that he was unreliable either. In the two-plus weeks that Justin had been his sponsor, he had been on time to every meeting and never missed any of them. 

“But you’ve only known me for a little over two weeks. They’ve all known me for years and I can tell you I’m not the person you think I am. I have sex with any man that even seems remotely interested, In fact, I typically have sex 4-5 times a day. According to my friends, that is my main reason to live: get my dick sucked and get off as many times as I can. They say I only think with my cock,” Brian half boasted, trying to throw Justin off his statement and admit that Brian Kinney was the stud that everyone thought he was. He wanted Justin to admit that his only worth was what he could do for a trick in bed. 

“Brian, I’m not going to get into a pissing contest with you. I can only judge you by our conversations and your attendance at AA. If you weren’t serious, I doubt you would have altered your lifestyle so drastically. You haven’t been to the clubs in several weeks, you are obviously abstaining several hours a day so you can attend a meeting, and it appears that you are moving forward with the program as evidenced by your disposal of the liquor in your home. If you weren’t serious about this, you would have stopped attending long ago.” The waitress came by to refill their water glasses and pour more coffee. Justin covered his cup with his hand, but Brian motioned for her to refill his coffee. 

Brian made a big production of opening one creamer and taking two packets of sugar from the sugar packet caddy. He slapped the packets three times and then meticulously opened them, pouring their contents into his cup. Picking up his spoon, he stirred the liquid several seconds, and then placed his spoon on the saucer that held the cup. He drank several sips of his coffee and then placed the cup on top of the saucer. 

Justin recognized that Brian was done with this particular conversation. He didn’t have to verbalize his thoughts, his failure to offer a rebuttal to Justin’s latest observation was sufficient for Justin. 

“I’m curious. What made you decide to throw away your liquor. When we talked yesterday, the thought hadn’t occurred to you,” Justin asked, genuinely curious. He hoped that changing the subject to a less explosive topic would make Brian more comfortable. The last thing he wanted to do was to get him angry, as he was still very vulnerable to relapse. Justin had been witness to too many tales of remorse from attendees at AA meetings. 

He could see the small intimate circle of anonymous attendees as they gathered for support to battle their demons and master their addictions. The leader of the group would ask if anyone had anything to share, or if there were any newcomers. Someone would start talking, but their eyes wouldn’t focus on one person for more than a few seconds. After about 20 seconds, their eyes would dart around the group, hoping to see the slight nod of a head acknowledging the attendee’s acceptance of their backslide. The hope that they were not the first one to have slipped, and the desire to still be accepted even if they had failed in their journey. 

The person would start to talk, ‘I’d been doing really well, working the program, attending meetings, and then my “ex” showed up and demanded money. I got so mad and I just thought I’d have one drink to calm my nerves. Drinking had always helped in the past. Of course, one drink led to two and then two led to… well, needless to say, that most of the bottle of Vodka was gone by night’s end.’ 

That particular monologue had numerous versions, but the similarity in all of them was obvious. The person had been doing well but had not learned to handle their emotions and turned to their familiar tried and true emotional crutch. Brian was still in a vulnerable state. While he had been working the program for several weeks, he hadn’t reached the next big benchmark of one-month sobriety. Justin wanted him to leave their encounter on a positive note, not feeling vulnerable and putting himself in a position to backslide. 

Brian initially shrugged, downplaying the event. 

“What happened between our AA meeting and this morning?” Justin hoped narrowing down the time frame and giving him a specific question might result in a response. Justin finished his water and wished he hadn’t waved the waitress away when she offered more coffee. Looking around the dining area, he spotted her and raised his glass, indicating he wanted a refill. 

“Sometimes I wish that I had chosen to attend an AA meeting closer to home,” Brian said tongue in cheek. “That way I wouldn’t have 20-30 minutes to mull over our conversations and think about the stuff they talked about in meeting.” Brian drank some coffee and looked Justin directly in the eye, trying to judge his reaction. He wanted to ensure that Justin recognized his brand of humor. 

Justin smiled and Brian was pleased that this man didn’t need an explanation of his comment. Justin understood his sarcasm. 

“Anyway, I thought about our discussion all the way home. I was very excited about the possibility of returning to Babylon. Attending AA meetings is a necessary evil. I get that I’m not going to stop drinking and stay sober by snapping my fingers. While I’m not especially fond of all this introspection crap, I know that it’s necessary.” Brian was always slightly surprised when he talked to Justin. He usually just listened to ‘the gang’ when they got together. He was a part of the conversation, but apart from the interaction. He wanted Justin to know that he paid attention to their conversations, and he realized that they were key to his journey.

Justin nodded his head in understanding, silently encouraging Brian to continue. 

“Things have to change in my life if I’m going to be successful. Up to this point, I’d stopped going to Babylon and Woody’s, and I attended meetings every day. Those are huge changes in my daily routine, but I realized I needed to start making some additional ones. I don’t drink at work unless I’m taking a client to lunch or dinner, and then it is one drink.”

The waitress came by their table again. “Can I get you any dessert?” 

Justin picked up the menu from the edge of the table and previewed the options. “I’d like the Lemon Meringue pie,” he said as he placed the menu back in the caddy.

“No thanks. I would like more coffee, and I’ve used the last of the creamer,” Brian said as he pointed to the empty condiment caddy.

“I’ll be right back with your dessert. We are brewing a fresh pot, and as soon as it is finished, I’ll refill your cup. I’ll get you some creamers now.” The waitress left.

“I hadn’t thought about the liquor in my cabinet until yesterday. After closing the door and setting the alarm, I walked straight to the liquor cabinet and investigated its contents. It was automatic. I wasn’t reacting to anything that happened; I just thought I’d like a drink. Your comments hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t need liquor in my house. Having it there would just be an easy way to drink, and I need to make it harder.”

“So getting rid of the liquor will cut down future temptations,” Justin said.

“Yes. Sure, I could just get in my car and go to the store, buying whatever I felt like drinking that night. Having easy access to a bottle in my home ups the chance that I will drink.”

“I’m glad that you are making changes and starting to think about how alcohol fits in your life.”

The waitress brought Justin’s pie, refilled Brian’s coffee, as well as brought creamer cups to refill the caddy. Justin took several bites of his pie and licked his lips in satisfaction.

“Did you trade pie for liquor? You look like you just took a hit of Ecstasy and are blissed out.”

Justin shook his head. “The pie is just really good. I told you they make excellent desserts. I have a sweet tooth.”

“I can’t imagine eating Lemon Meringue. My teeth are dissolving just looking at it. There’s got to be 35 grams of sugar in a piece that size.”

“Says the man who puts three packets of sugar into every cup of coffee,” Justin said, calling Brian on his mock indignation.

“Point taken. One addiction at a time.”

Smiling at Brian, Justin took another bite of pie and made an exaggerated sound of bliss. He drank some water. 

“I’ve got to head out. Got an early morning meeting with my agent. She wants to see my new canvases for my next show, and my studio is across town. Unlike me, she is an early riser, and wants to meet at 9:00.”

Brian looked for the waitress and located her at the back corner of the diner. Making eye contact, he motioned for her to bring their check. He finished his coffee, tasting the sweetness and grinned as he acknowledged Justin’s comment about the sugar content of his drink.

“Here’s your check gentleman. Come again.”

Brian picked up the check and placed a $20.00 on the table and handed the check to Justin. Justin placed a $20.00 as well on the table and both men walked to the door. 

“Tomorrow?” Justin asked.

“Sure. I always enjoy self-examination of my innermost thoughts,” Brian said.

Justin laughed. “Of course you do. No one’s ever dug around the mind of Brian. Personally, I enjoy our little talks.” They walked to Justin’s car and both men got in.

Justin started the car and drove toward where Brian left his car. “All kidding aside, Brian. Talk to your friend Ted. He’s been in recovery for a while. I bet he would have some great insights into worthiness. I think you’d be surprised.”

Brian nodded his head and got out of the car. “Later,” he said as he cursed Justin under his breath. Luckily, he had a whole 30 minutes of drive time ahead of him. Maybe that would be sufficient time to mull over Justin’s comments. Otherwise, it might be another long night of thinking.

TBC


	21. Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian meets with the lawyer

Brian drove home thinking of Justin’s comments. He debated with himself whether he should ask Ted about worthiness. Deciding that the conversation wasn’t an urgent one, he parked his car in the lot and went upstairs to his loft. After resetting the alarm, he glanced automatically to the liquor cabinet and walked over to it, looking inside. It was empty. Ted and he had poured out the liquor the night before and it was not like he lived in a magical place where it would be replenished by a liquor genie. Last night’s impromptu disposal seemed so far away, almost like it happened to someone else. Life moved fast at times and this was one of those times. He hadn’t had a drink in almost three weeks, and the craving wasn’t really there. He wondered if he was like Pavlov’s dog; walking into Woody’s or Babylon equaled automatically going for a drink. It was obvious that he had some ingrained reactions as evidenced by his automatic move to the liquor cabinet upon walking into his home. Walking away from the empty liquor cabinet, he picked up the mail that he had laid on top of it and brought it to the coffee table by the couch.

Pavlov’s dog. Where the hell did that come from? I’m not some high school kid studying psychology and I’m sure not a shrink. Therapy is for wuss’ and I’m definitely not a wuss. But, is AA some type of therapy, albeit without the fucking shrink? 

Brian shut down his thoughts and sat on the couch. Rubbing his thumb and forefinger across the bridge of his nose, he leaned forward and placed his forearms on his thighs. He took several deep breaths and then stayed in that position for several minutes. Sitting up, he removed his fingers from the bridge of his nose and allowed his mind to wander again.

Shit!. AA is a therapy group and …. What the fuck. I always thought therapy was mumbo-jumbo and didn’t have any merit, but AA is really helping me. For the first time in forever, I don’t feel like shit when I wake up in the morning. I’m not hungover, and I’m more productive in the mornings. Used to be I would take several hours and at least 4 cups of coffee before I felt the fuzz dissipate from my brain. Between Justin and the various leaders of the group, I’m beginning to evaluate my life. Justin’s got me looking at my relationships. The “R” word that I didn’t believe in is evidently real and alive even in my closed world. I never doubted that Gus was important to me, but now I’m beginning to evaluate other people and their importance in my life. Well, if there is one thing I have learned from these last few weeks, it is that nothing happens overnight. If we could all snap our fingers or blink and our troubles would be gone, there would be no need for AA. Since that isn’t happening, I think I’m done contemplating my life. 

Brian checked the door to ensure that it was locked and the alarm was set. He glanced somewhat with regret mixed with a little longing at the empty liquor cabinet and walked toward the bedroom. Placing a clean set of casual clothing in a small neatly folded pile on the dresser, he made a mental note to take them with him tomorrow. He threw his barely worn clothing in the hamper and went to the bathroom to complete his bedtime routine. While setting his alarm for 7:00, he glanced at the clock and realized it was almost 11:00. He yawned and realized that while it was much earlier than he used to go to bed, he was actually tired. Maybe thinking made you tired, but he was done thinking for today. Closing his eyes, he went to sleep.

Brian was at work before 8:00. Having woken up before his alarm and feeling rested, he decided to start his day early. His appointment with the lawyer was this afternoon and he wanted Ted to gather all the documents pertaining to the financial support that he’d provided to Gus through the years. Somewhere in the last 24 hours, he’d come to the conclusion that while he did not want a specific custody agreement, he did want a guarantee for access to Gus. If that meant a legally binding document, then that is what he would insist on. He was done with Lindsay’s mercurial ideas regarding his access to Gus. He didn’t want her to have the power to deny him access to Gus when he stopped the bank of Brian. 

When he arrived, Ted was walking into his office, admiring the new picture of him and Blake that they had taken a few weeks ago, and Brian followed him inside. Ted placed his cup of coffee on the coaster and sat down. 

“Bri, you’re here early today. Everything okay?”

“Actually, I’m sleeping great. Evidently going to bed when you’re not drunk or high has the distinct advantage of higher quality sleep, and waking up without the feeling that you’ve been run over by a truck,” Brian responded. “Who would've thunk?” He felt comfortable with Ted and was at a point in his sobriety journey that he could joke about some of the pitfalls and negative aspects of his drinking. 

“Yes. I don’t really remember much of the time I was using, so I imagine it was not a pretty sight. I do vaguely remember the first few days in rehab where I thought that I would do anything to not feel the pain of withdrawal. Luckily, you didn’t use drugs to the extent I did. I mean, well you did imbibe in the alphabet soup at Babylon but…”

“I get it, Ted. No need to go into detail. Suffice it to say that I’m not using now and hope to stay that way. Attending AA has been enlightening, to say the least. I’m not here to discuss sobriety, although I have some questions in that regard for a later time. I’m meeting with the lawyer today, and I want you to gather all the information on Gus’s support. I know you showed me the spreadsheets, but I’d like a few months of canceled checks to bring with me too.”

“Sure thing, Bri. What time is your appointment?”

“3:30. I’ve got to leave about 2:45.”

“I’ll have it to you by noon so you can look it over before the appointment.”

Brian left to find coffee. Evidently, even when he woke early and wasn’t hungover, he still wanted his morning jolt of caffeine.

Brian had a busy morning, as always, and was surprised when Ted knocked on his door around noon.  
“More papers for me to sign? I swear, I really should just invest in a stamp with my name on it,” Brian said as he watched Ted walk in with a stack of papers.

“No signature needed. These are the copies of the canceled checks you asked about this morning.” Ted laid the stack on Brian’s desk. “ I brought a manilla envelope for you to put them in after you’ve reviewed them. Wouldn’t want anyone getting those account numbers.”

“Thanks. I’ll look at them once I’ve finished this email. I thought email was supposed to make our lives easier and less cumbersome. I think it has done the opposite. Seems that everyone thinks they need to update me every time someone makes even a tiny adjustment to a document. I think I spend 25% of my day reading emails.” Brian said, lamenting the necessary evil.

“Let me know if you have any questions. I’ve got a conference call at 2:00, but I should be available until that time,” Ted said as he turned to leave. 

Brian finished writing the email in question, picking up the stack of papers Ted had placed on his desk. 

There were checks made out to Franklin Elementary school for $125.00 every week from September through May. These were written for several years and Brian assumed they were for daycare. There were checks almost every month made out to Lindsay with various explanations in the memo line. Some listed clothing and sporting equipment while others stated miscellaneous. He doubted that Ted would use that explanation; therefore he deduced that Lindsay gave him some plausible reason that she needed the money. As he reviewed the columns, he was surprised at the large amount of money he was giving her for Gus, especially when she consistently lamented that raising him was very expensive. He thought about Ted’s earlier comment that his sister only received $400 from her “ex” and she had two children. Surely, with the amount of support he was providing, the courts would see that he was supporting Gus and hopefully that would mean he had rights to be a part of his life. 

Realistically, he knew that as long as he was attending AA every night, his interactions with Gus were still limited during the week, but he wondered if he would always need to attend AA. Justin had stated that he’d been sober for a year and obviously he still attended. Brian wondered how long a person continued their involvement with AA. He understood the necessity of attendance at this juncture in his recovery, but he hadn’t thought about the long term need to be involved. He put that on the list of things to talk to Justin about at some point in the future. He knew he wasn’t ready to contemplate stopping his attendance.

But if his attendance could be cut down to several times a week instead of every day, he would be free to spend more time with Gus. He wondered if that was something he wanted. He realized that he honestly did not know the answer, as he’d never thought about being more involved in the boy’s life. When Gus was young, Lindsay had always pushed for him to be an active father, but he really didn’t have an interest in doing so. He wasn’t sure when that had changed, but somewhere along the line, it became important to see Gus on a regular basis and for him to know Brian. Brian knew that Gus looked forward to their time together and never left without asking when he would see him again. He hadn’t expected to enjoy being a father. Since Gus was the driving force in his journey for sobriety, he admitted that it was important to him. Brian never did things he didn’t want to do. 

He had thought enough about the “what ifs” involving Gus and their time together, right now he was only interested in protecting his continued access to his son. Gathering all the papers, he placed them back in the manilla envelope, and placed the envelope in his briefcase. The irony of the gesture did not elude him. He had purchased the briefcase in order to transport work back and forth from his office to his home. Now that he wasn’t coming home at 1:00 every morning, he was able to get the majority of his work done at his office. Now he was using the briefcase to transport documents that would once again potentially fill his time in the evening, albeit with a different type of activity, hanging out with his son. 

“Cynthia, I’ll be gone the rest of the afternoon. Unless Kinnetik is burning down, I’ll see you in the morning,” he said as he walked out of the building. 

As he drove to the lawyers office, he spent the time thinking about what he wanted regarding his access to Gus. Realistically, he knew he did not want full custody of Gus, but having him more than a few weekends a month would be nice. Since Gus was ten, he usually went to bed around 9:00. Brian didn’t get home from AA until 10:00 or later because he and Justin went for coffee afterward. On the weekends, he had been attending a meeting earlier so he could make it to Sunday dinner at Debbie’s. He knew there were meetings during the day and wondered if he could find one that met his schedule. Brian wondered if an early morning or lunch time meeting would work. Maybe he could attend one in the late afternoon and be home in time for Gus and he to eat dinner. Another option would be to hang out with Gus after he ate dinner and then have him home in time for bed. As Brian thought about all the options, he realized he was getting ahead of himself and needed to guarantee his access to Gus before he started planning when he would attend AA meetings. 

He’d eventually have to tell Lindsay, but he wanted assurance that she couldn’t use his previous behavior against him. He understood her twisted logic all too well. Even though she knew he drank, she would suddenly decide that the accident that resulted in his wrecking his car made him unsafe for Gus to be around. Even though that logic would be just the opposite of the truth. Now that he was not even drinking a beer at the soccer fields or any other time, he was more aware of the potential for danger. She seemed to “know and not know” about his drinking and the potential hazards. Now, that he was sober, she would try and get high and mighty and worry about Gus’ safety.

Arriving at the building where Beroes Law Center was located, he parked his car, grabbed his briefcase and walked into the lobby. The lobby was illuminated by glass windows on all sides. There were large planters in the corners with an array of colorful flowers. In the middle of the lobby was a large Chihuly sculpture. He’d been to an exhibit of the man’s work with Lindsay, and admired his skill and talent. His glass works had a distinct look to them and he was able to pick them out easily. 

Maybe this was a sign that this was the right place for him to be. He walked over to the marquee that listed the occupants of the building and searched until he located Beroes. Taking the elevator to the 7th floor, he walked out to see that the firm had the entire floor. The administrative assistant at the front desk wore a Vera Wang dress in deep blue and her hair was neatly cut and styled. While Brian was not attracted to women, he did notice them. Cynthia was always dressed professionally, but added a statement necklace or interesting earrings to make her stand out. She looked up as Brian exited the elevator and smiled. 

“Welcome to Beroes. How may I help you?”

“I’m Brian Kinney and I have an appointment at 3:30.”

She clicked on her computer, opening the calendar and finding the appointment listing. 

“Yes. Have a seat and I’ll let Kara know you are here.” She motioned to the silver chairs that were located next to the wall. 

Brian sat in the chair, looking at the magazines laying on the table in front of the chairs. They were neatly laid out so that the customer could see the titles. He didn’t pick up any of them, but chose to scrutinize the lobby. A business’ lobby portrayed a lot of information about the company. A lobby that was sparse with few amenities spoke of a business that was cutting corners and may not have the resources to provide quality service. Just as a man’s clothing portrayed to the world his status; a lobby of a business portrayed their success. Kinnetik had bold furnishing and expensive fixtures. Cynthia, his second in command was always dressed impeccably as was the receptionist that greeted the customers. Image was of utmost importance when your business was marketing other companies image and products. 

There were several bold abstract paintings on the wall, adding color to the lobby. Making a mental note to identify the artist before he left, he waited to be called back to the office. He was not an art aficionado, but recognized when an artist’s work spoke to him. The pieces were a combination of boldness but reassuring at the same time. He thought that he might like to have a piece of artwork for Kinnetik like the ones on the wall.

He met with people all day, but he was always the one in charge. He had the ideas, the power to convince his clients that they needed what he offered. Here, he was the client and not in charge. He wasn’t sure how this would play out; however, he knew this was the right move, the one he needed to make at this time. 

Before he could mull over the potential outcomes of the meeting any longer, a tall, brunette with shoulder length hair appeared in the lobby and walked over to him. Her Armani black wool pants were perfectly tailored and paired with a deep blue blouse and black classic blazer. She reached out her hand to shake Brian’s hand. He stood up.

“Mr. Kinney, I’m Kera. Welcome to Beroes.”

Brian shook her hand, noticing the firm handshake. 

Kera said, “We will meet in my office. Please follow me.”

Kera walked down the hallway and stopped at the last office on the left. She motioned for Brian to sit in one of the client chairs, a large burgundy chair with padding on the arms and back. It was surprisingly comfortable. 

“Can I get you a coffee or water?”

“Coffee would be fine,” Brian said. 

“Do you want cream or sugar in it?”

“Sugar, 3 packets and 1 cream,” he said as he thought of Justin’s comments regarding his sugar addiction. He smiled ruefully when he thought of their daily coffee consumption.

Kera walked to the coffee station and prepared Brian’s coffee, handing him a large ceramic mug with the Beroes logo emblazoned on it. It was warm and smelled delicious. He took a sip and smiled at the perfect combination of sugar, cream and coffee. 

Kera picked up a manilla file folder that had a typed label with Kinney on it. She opened the file and took out the small stack of loose leaf paper, placing them on the desk. She picked up her own mug of coffee and took a sip, placing it on the coaster to her right.

“You contacted our firm to discuss a visitation concern. Tell me about the situation.”

“I want to guarantee my access to my son.”

“Can you tell me more about your concerns?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It always is. If it was easy, you wouldn’t be sitting in my office.”

Brian was not one to beat around the bush and was surprised at his curt responses. This was not a court of law and he wasn’t watching some tv show. 

“I stopped drinking a few weeks ago and when the mother of my son finds out, I’m concerned that she will make it more difficult to see him.” 

“Congratulations,” She said. “However, I’m confused. Usually, the scenario is just the opposite. The parent who isn’t drinking limits access to the parent that is drinking,” Kera said. She had many clients who had substance abuse concerns, but usually the parent who wasn’t using was pushing for limited access of the parent who was using. “If I understand you, your concerned that she will limit your access now that you aren’t drinking.” 

“Lindsay, that is Gus’ mom doesn’t know that I’ve stopped drinking. She would try and twist my sobriety into a reason that I shouldn’t have access to Gus. I know that normal people would be thrilled that their child would be in a safer place with a parent who didn’t drink. I could see Lindsay spouting statements like, ‘I don’t know if you should have Gus; you might be tempted to drink and I want him safe. I could also see her wife saying that I was reckless as evidenced by my totalling my car and therefore I shouldn’t have access to Gus.”

Kera wrote the information on the loose paper and made some notes to the side. 

“Is Lindsay your ex- wife?”

“No,” Brian said as he laughed. He knew Lindsay had visions of them as a cute little family, complete with the 2.2 children and the white picket fence, but he was gay. “She’s a lesbian. I agreed to be a sperm donor so her and her partner could have a child. Originally, I was providing the DNA, but not raising him. However, when he was born, Lindsay pushed me to be an active parental figure in his life.” He took a drink of his coffee. Kera appeared to be taking notes of the conversation. 

“My concern is that I can’t count on her to let me spend time with Gus. She is mercurial, alternately deciding I’m a good influence and pushing my involvement in his life, to deciding that my behavior is dangerous and I shouldn’t be around him.” Brian looked around the room noticing that the paintings on the wall were similar to the work in the lobby. Making a mental note to find out about the artist, he brought his attention back to the conversation. 

“Okay. Let me make sure I understand your concerns. You want continued access to your son and you are concerned that your friend, his mother, will limit the access as a result of your new sobriety.”

“Yes.”

“Did you sign any parental rights papers before the insemination?”

“No. They had me shoot my junk in a cup and then Mel used a turkey baster.” Brian shuddered when he thought of his jizz being shot up Lindsay. Female anatomy was just gross and he would leave it to the Lesbians. 

“Do you know if there was ever a DNA test to verify that the child is yours?”

“He is the spitting image of me. No one could deny he was mine,” Brian said, the pride evidenced in his voice. He smiled when he thought of the handsome young man, and fast forwarded several years to see him as a young man taking over Kinnetik. The two of them would be a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you provide any monetary support to his mother for his care?”

Brian picked up his briefcase and placed it on his lap. He clicked the locks and took out the manilla envelope, handing it to Kera. “Those are copies of cancelled checks that I have written in the past year for Gus’ care. I provide a lot of financial support for him. That is another reason I’m concerned. Now that I’m sober, I’ve been reviewing my life and see that his mother appears to be using me as the ‘bank of Brian’. I provide money for after school care, sporting equipment, clothing and other items, yet my son is frequently asking for the two of us to go shopping as his mothers tell him they don’t have the money to buy him the item.” 

Brian grimaced as he thought of Lindsay’s machinations. ‘Oh Brian, can you write a check for Gus’ new cleats, he’s outgrown his old ones. Brian, can you write a check for Gus’ after school program, we’re running a little short this month. Brian, can you write a check…..’

“I’ve decided to stop giving Lindsay money for Gus and buying the items directly. That will piss her off too. She would probably limit my access to Gus unless I forked over some cash. I’m done supporting her and her wife. They both have good jobs and shouldn’t rely on me to pay their bills.”

Kera continued to write notes for a few minutes and then looked at Brian, smiling. “We’ll have to do a DNA test to verify that the child is yours, but it appears that you have a good legal foundation for maintaining your access to your son.”

Brian leaned forward and opened his briefcase again, taking out a legal pad and pen to take notes.

Kera said,  
“1. There was no legal agreement before you donated. Any time a known sperm donor donates, there should be a legal contract specifying his involvement or lack thereof with the child.   
2\. The insemination did not take place in a clinic. Having a medical professional involved holds more credence.  
3\. In Pennsylvania, genetics determines legal parentage, even if your name is not on the birth certificate.  
4\. Since there was no contract prior to insemination relinquishing your parental rights, a court may enforce full parental obligations on you.” Kera pointed out each statement by touching her index finger to her fingers on the opposite hand as she ticked off each point.

Brian smiled and nodded his head as Kera ticked off each key point. He wrote down the information and starred each point. 

“Basically, Mr. Kinney, it appears that your friends do not have any rights to prevent you from seeing your son. There was no legal contract written prior to insemination stating who would be the parents raising the child. In addition, your checks show a history of financial support for the child. According to your report, you spend time with him at the request of his mother. All of these points to their treatment of you as a parent to your son. You would be within your rights to take them to court for guaranteed visitation.”

“What about my drinking and wrecking my car? Could they use that to keep him away from me?” Brian wanted reassurance that his past behavior would not harm his access to Gus.

“No. In fact, your AA involvement would help your situation if they chose to fight you. Do you have proof of your attendance? Do you have a sponsor? Anyone that can vouch for you?”

“Yes. I do have a sponsor and he has attended every meeting with me for the last 3 weeks,” Brian said. He was glad that he had someone who could vouch for him. He was really happy that he had taken that leap and chosen Justin as a sponsor. Their friendship was changing his life, one day at a time.

“Mr. Kinney. If you believe that your child’s mother will try to limit your access to him, I would encourage you to present your case in court. While I’m fairly certain your case shows obvious support and involvement in your son’s life, a legal opinion would guarantee your access. This way if they attempted to limit or forbid you access, you would already have legal precedent on your side.”

Brian thought about her suggestion. He would definitely sleep better at night knowing his access to Gus was legally guaranteed. “What would that involve? Would there be a court trial?”

“In Pennsylvania, genetics determines legal parentage. All we would need to do is verify that Gus is your son. Since there is no legal contract to dispute, in the eyes of our state you are legally responsible for him even if you are not listed on the birth certificate. If the donation were anonymous, it would be much more difficult. But in that situation there would be medical intervention and witness.”  
“So, how do I do that? And what would be the next step?”

“First, you would need to verify his DNA. There are many labs that perform the test for child support disputes. I have a list of labs that can complete the work..” Kera pulled open her bottom desk drawer and slid the file folders to the front until she located the one with the information she wanted. Pulling out the folder, she looked through the papers until she found a list of labs in the area, and handed it to Brian.

“Once we verify that he is your son, we could ask the court to provide an opinion regarding your legal rights. Since there was no contract prior to insemination, and you are the known donor, it is highly unlikely that the court would not grant you equal access to your son.”

“Lindsay is going to be pissed. I can see it now as she bats her eyes at the judge and tries to convince them that no papers were signed as it was between friends and she knew I didn’t want to be a father,” Brian said, hearing Lindsay’s whine and pretend innocent ploys.

“It doesn’t matter. The law is the law, and in Pennsylvania, even if she had you sign papers regarding your relinquishing your rights, it doesn’t matter. You knew you were providing sperm. The other biological parent has encouraged you to be involved in the child’s life and you can prove significant financial support for the child. The law sees it as black and white. She solicited your sperm for a child and she is treating you as a part time father.”

“Our consultative hour is almost up, Mr. Kinney. Do you wish to proceed?”

“Yes. How much is this going to cost me? Not that Gus isn’t worth every penny, but I just want to know.”

“This is a pretty straight forward case. I charge $500 for the initial court filing. This is not a very complicated case. My fee will be $3000. I estimate that I will not need to spend more than 10 hours on the case.”

“$3000 for my peace of mind and guaranteed access to Gus is excellent,” Brian said, realizing he spent almost that much in providing support for Gus every couple of months.

“I’ll have my assistant walk you to the anteroom and you can make financial arrangements,” Kera said as she stood up and shook Brian’s hand.

“Thank you. I’ll look at the list you provided and take Gus for the DNA test this weekend. I’ll have him on Friday and Saturday.”

“Great. Have the results sent to my office and I’ll call you when we receive them.” She returned to her desk and hit the intercom button. “Molly, can you come in and draw up a simple custody plan for Mr. Kinney. I anticipate 10 hours should be sufficient.”

Brian gathered his briefcase, making sure it was locked and closed. When another woman wearing a Donna Karran print dress came in, he followed her to the anteroom. She sat down at the desk and clicked on the computer, booting it up. After a few clicks, she brought up the standard child visitation contract. She asked Brian for his information and typed it into the form. When she was done, she printed it and gave it to him to review. He looked it over and signed his name. 

Molly said, “I will need $500 for today’s visit.”

Brian took out his wallet and gave her a black Mastercard. 

She clicked on a few screens until a payment screen opened. She typed in the information and ran his card through a square. She presented him with a signature screen and he finger signed it. 

“We’re done. Let me walk you out.”

Brian sighed a deep breath of relief. He would be able to have full access to Gus. Hopefully, this process wouldn’t take long. “Oh, by the way, I admired the art work on the walls. Do you happen to know the name of the artist?” Brian asked as he was being escorted to the front lobby.

“Yes. It’s Justin Taylor. He is very talented. He’s my brother. I’ll let him know he has another art fan. We get a lot of compliments on his work.” 

Brian looked at the young woman, trying to see the resemblance to Justin. He knew Justin didn’t get along with his father, but he never talked about any of his other family. 6 Degrees of separation was starting to have a new meaning for Brian. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Right now, he was just relieved and wanted to go home and celebrate. 

He stopped short when he realized that a drink was not on the menu of acceptable celebratory options. Maybe just this once? He thought as he walked out of the office building and walked to his car.

TBC


	22. Celebration Kinney Style

Brian got in his car and drove toward his home. It was 5:30 and the meeting he usually attended didn’t start until 7:00. He hadn’t said anything to anyone but Ted about his visit to Beroes, fearing that he would be disappointed with the outcome. Now that he’d been assured that he had the full legal protection of his rights to have Gus in his life, he wanted to celebrate. Before his journey into sobriety, he would head straight for Woody’s where he would order a shot or three of Beam. He could remember the taste and slight burn of the Beam as it would slide down his throat, and then he would feel the tingling in his body as the alcohol hit his bloodstream. He wasn’t sure how to celebrate without booze. He couldn’t really see himself shouting from the rooftops or barging into the diner sharing his news. 

Sitting in his jeep, he pulled out his phone and pushed the number 4 on the display.

“Hello,” Ted said as he answered the call. 

“What do you do to celebrate?” Brian asked. He didn’t provide any background information, just assumed Ted would figure it out without him having to spell it out.

“Um. Ah.” Ted wasn’t expecting the question and was finding it difficult to put words into a sentence.

“Hi Brian, I guess your meeting went well,” Ted said, trying to stall for time as he thought of an answer.

“I really want a drink to celebrate, but I know that’s not a good idea. So, I will ask you again. What do you do to celebrate?” Brian said, hoping to get some ideas.

“Blake and I often do something special together. If it is a big celebration, we might go to an upscale restaurant or buy something for the condo. A really big celebration might have us buying tickets to an opera, maybe going out of town to see a show. Sometimes we go to the store and buy the ingredients for a special meal. We like cooking together. We often make love as a way to celebrate, too.” 

Brian listened but nothing Ted said would work for him. He ate at upscale restaurants frequently, especially when entertaining clients. He didn’t like Opera, and while he enjoyed the theatre, he didn’t attend very often. He traveled a lot for his job, so going out of town was a hassle he’d rather avoid. Sex was a different animal now. He was used to using sex as a way to forget what he was feeling, not celebrate. 

“Lindsay can’t keep Gus away from me and I want to celebrate. For the first time since he was born, I don’t feel like I have to walk on eggshells.” Brian’s eyes lit up at the thought of dropping in at any time and taking Gus for an adventure. He knew the law would stand behind him. He was slightly reluctant to push the issue as Kera had suggested, but now that he thought about it, he liked the idea a lot. 

“That’s great news. I know you’re relieved. I could come over and we could go to dinner,” Ted said offering his time without being asked.

“No, thanks. I’m going to a meeting in an hour or so. Thanks for gathering all the financials,” Brian said as he looked down at the manila envelope lying on the seat beside him. He was incredibly thankful that Ted was so meticulous, keeping all the records involving Gus and the money that Brian provided to the munchers. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure. I’m really okay with meeting you somewhere.” Ted understood how vulnerable Brian was at this time, even if Brian didn’t recognize it. Brian celebrated as well as commiserated with liquor; he didn’t discriminate. Either reason was cause for a drink. He was a watcher, especially of Brian, and could read his moods very well. He doubted Brian consciously understood his habits. He would gladly talk to his friend about his observations and decided that he might bring up the topic in the next few days. He hung up the phone and went to find Blake. He wanted to celebrate Brian’s good news as it impacted more than just Brian. When Brian was happy, the office ran much smoother. 

“No, thanks. I think I’ll go shopping for a bit. Treat myself to a new pair of shoes.”

Brian hung up and sat in his car for a few minutes as he thought about Ted’s suggestions. Every one of them involved having someone else to share the celebration. While he had called Ted to share the news, he hadn’t really thought about an answer. His primary focus was sharing the information. When did Ted become the person I wanted to share the news with? My first impulse was to have a drink, but that quickly went away. Then I realized that I wanted to tell someone, and Ted came to mind. 

Picking up his phone, he hit the contact for Justin, hoping he would pick up.

“Hello,” came the familiar voice. “Everything okay? We have a meeting in less than an hour. Are you not going to make it?” Justin asked, worried that something had happened to Brian.

“I’m good. I went to the law office today and found out that I have full legal rights to my son. No matter what happens, Lindsay can’t keep him from me,” 

“That’s great news. I know that you were really worried about Gus. You should celebrate,” Justin said. “What would you like to do?”

“That’s the problem. I have no idea. Used to be, I would go out and have a drink, but that is probably not a good idea. I asked my friend Ted what he did to celebrate, but everything he suggested was not appealing,” Brian said, letting go of some of the tension in his body. He could finally experience the relief he felt. While he had explained his anxiety regarding Gus to Ted and Justin, finally having a definitive positive answer brought him relief. 

“When something exciting happens to me, I go to the Carnegie Art Museum and walk around. Seeing other people’s work often inspires me but it also gives me joy. I could sit there for hours. Is there anything that just really makes you happy?”

Brian hesitated for a few minutes before saying softly, “I don’t have a clue what makes me happy. I’ve never thought about it. ” 

“Are you coming to the meeting tonight? We could talk about it afterward,” Justin said.

“Ok. See you in a bit,” Brian said as he started the car up and drove toward the meeting. He had been so relieved after talking to the lawyer, but now his tension was returning. He was beginning to realize that he had no idea how to really live his life outside its traditional confines. His life had consisted of two parts; work and tricking. After work he would go to Woody’s for a few beers, and then to Babylon, searching for a few tricks. He didn’t really think about why he went to either place, it just was what he wanted to do. When he had a day off, he was often at a loss on how to spend his time. His life was a series of activities; the majority of which did not give him much joy. He loved landing a new account, but the elation was often short-lived as he was always having to fight for the next account. By the same token, he loved spending time with Gus, but that was also short-lived, since Lindsay parcelled out his time with his son. Now that might change and he was happy about that development. 

He drove to the meeting, parking the car in the lot across from the community center. Today was Wednesday and tomorrow he had planned on going to Woody’s and or Babylon with Justin. He’s been so caught up in gathering all the financials to take to the lawyer, the days had flown by. Part of him wanted to skip the meeting and just talk to Justin about tomorrow, but he dismissed the idea. Brian Kinney was not a lesbian and did not talk about everything to death. 

He walked into the community center and saw Justin grabbing a cup of coffee at the back table.   
“Hey,” Brian said as he grabbed a styrofoam cup for himself. After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he placed his normal three sugars and two creams in the cup. “I know, it’s more a candy drink than coffee, but that’s how I drink it.” Brian took a sip and smiled at the bittersweet taste of the brew. 

“To each his own. How you drink your coffee is not a big deal. I already know you are a coffee snob. Let’s sit down, it’s almost time to start.” Justin walked toward the front of the room where a circle of metal chairs was placed. 

The speaker started out the meeting in the usual way, asking if there was anyone new. Today a young blond woman raised her hand about halfway and said, “I am.”

“Welcome. “I’m Calvin. We all use our first names during the meeting. What’s your name?”

“Sabrina.”

Everyone in the group said, “Hi Sabrina.”

Calvin asked if Sabrina would like to talk about why she was here tonight, but Sabrina said no.  
Calvin said, “There is no requirement to talk or share, but hopefully one day you will feel comfortable and want to do both.” Calvin could see many of the group members nodding in agreement. Many of them probably remembering when they were new and scared to talk. 

“I was talking to a friend yesterday about sobriety. He said that being sober was an easy decision since his life had been so impacted by his drinking that he had nowhere to go but up. However, he said it was harder to tell the people in his life that he’d changed. I’d like to explore sharing your sobriety. Anyone want to start?” Calvin asked.

“Hi, I’m John. I’ll start. I had tried to quit drinking at least half a dozen times. Sometimes I told myself that I’d stop, and other times I promised my wife I would stop. Unfortunately, after the first few times of failure, neither of us believed my words. Finally attending AA made a difference. While I’m gone a few nights a week attending meetings, I don’t come home smelling like a brewery. She believes me now.” The small circle of people clapped politely. “It was a little different from other people. When I told my best friend that I stopped drinking, he tried to get me to go for a drink with him. He had a hard time believing that I really wanted to stop.”

Brian nodded his head in understanding. He could see Michael and Lindsay doing the same thing. Their picture of him involved the playboy; always picking up tricks and drowning his feelings in booze. 

“So how did you convince him that you’d changed?” Justin asked. 

“I kept saying no. After about the 3rd or 4th time, he quit asking me. Our relationship is different. He had this vision of me and now it's changed.”

“Hi, I’m Mary,” said the woman sitting directly across from John. She had on a red sweater and jeans. She didn’t wear any makeup and there were gray strands streaking her mossy brown shoulder-length hair. “When I told my boss that I needed some time off for detox, he was very supportive. I never told my colleagues. I’ve listened to them talk at lunch about people they knew who were drinking. The conversations were often very negative. I didn’t want to risk them talking about me that way.”

“Thanks, Mary,” Calvin said. 

Brian thought about how Emmett and Ted had reacted to his sobriety. They had been supportive, but he thought back to the reason he was sitting here in the room tonight. “I’m Brian. I’ve only told a few people, but I haven’t told more of my family because I thought that they would use the information against me. I was afraid that my son’s mother would try to keep my son away from me. She would twist my AA attendance as grounds that I was unsafe and he shouldn’t be with me,” Brian said. He was shocked that he shared this information. He’d been talking to Justin every night after meetings for several weeks and since he hadn’t self-destructed, he was discovering a lot of things about himself. He’d started to examine many areas of his life. Each day he was discovering the benefits of sobriety.

“Brian, that’s very scary. We always hope that our sobriety serves as a basis for having better lives,” Calvin said. Looking around the small group, he noticed several heads nodding in agreement.

“I decided to be proactive. I just came from speaking with a lawyer who assured me that she would have no grounds to stop me from seeing my son. She can’t use my sobriety against me,” Brian said. 

“I’m excited for you. It sounds like he is very important to you,” Mary said.

“Hi, I’m Sam,” said a man who sat next to Brian. He wore a gray business suit with a red and blue striped tie. His face was bronzed, looking like he either just returned from a sunny clime or he used a tanning booth recently. “I can identify with you, Brian. My ex knew I drank and she limited my access to my kids, citing safety as a concern. When I told her that I was sober, she still tried to use my history of drinking as an excuse to keep me from spending time with them. The courts can be helpful.”

Brian was excited to hear about a success story similar to his own. He knew there would be repercussions with Lindsay, especially when the bank of Brian closed for business. His bigger concern was for Gus. He still hadn’t figured out what spending more time with Gus would look like, but he knew it could only get better.

The big hurdle would be tomorrow when he went to Woody’s and Babylon. How would Michael handle the information?

Calvin said, “Thanks for sharing. Our first goal is to admit to ourselves that there is a problem and we need help. Once we seek help, telling others in our lives is important since we need their support in our journey. Without the support of our family and friends, sobriety is difficult.”

“I’m Justin and I’ve been sober for a year. Meetings are great support, but they are only an hour a day. Without my family’s support, I don’t think I would have gotten through the other 23 hours,” Justin said.

“Drinking impacts the family and each person has a role in your life,” Calvin said. He raised his right hand, splaying his fingers so everyone could see them. He tapped his thumb with the index finger of his left hand. “Is someone enabling you to drink by making excuses for your behavior?” He tapped his index finger with the index finger of his left hand. “Is there a person who works behind the scenes to keep everyone happy?” He tapped his middle finger with the index finger of his left hand. “Is there someone in your life who participates in destructive behavior to draw attention away from you? Whether your “family” is biological or not, there are often roles that people play,” Calvin said as he explained common roles seen in families with an alcoholic member. 

“Understanding the roles of your family is critical to sharing your sobriety. They also need to understand their part and how it impacts your sobriety. AL-Anon and Al Ateen are both excellent groups that address how drinking has impacted the family unit and how they can assist you in this journey,” Calvin said. He drank a sip from his styrofoam cup and continued.

“Even if they are not interested in attending, you need to understand that your sobriety impacts them as well as you. They are used to their role in your life, and when you change they are often at a loss as to how to act. They may deny there was an issue with your drinking because they liked feeling needed in your life. Dynamics change when you stop drinking,” Calvin said. He looked around the group and saw many nodding heads.

“My agent really wanted me to maintain sobriety. She helped me devise a strategy for attending openings where alcohol was served. I couldn’t stay away from them since they are a must in my profession. Her support was critical for my success,” Justin said. “I’m not very close to my biological family so there weren’t any changes on that front.”

Calvin said, “This has been a great discussion, as always. Coffee is in the back and we’ll see you next week. Remember, support is critical in your journey. We all need someone at our back.”

Brian sat in his chair, not moving toward the back where the coffee table was located. He was mulling over Calvin’s words. He couldn’t wait to discuss the meeting with Justin. Justin watched Brian; he could see he was deep in thought.

“Brian, do you want to go somewhere and celebrate?” 

Brian looked at him, having forgotten his earlier phone call. “Actually, I think I’d rather go for coffee and talk. Tonight’s talk was very eye-opening in many ways.” Brian listened to his words and was slightly surprised. He just asked someone to talk. 

“Okay. Sounds good. Do you remember the coffee shop around the corner?” Justin asked.

“Sure. I’ll meet you there.”

Both men walked to their cars and met at the coffee shop 15 minutes later. They were seated at the back at Brian’s request. 

The waitress came by and asked what they wanted to drink and both men requested coffee. She told them she’d be back to take their order.

As they waited for their coffee, they perused the menu. She came back a few minutes later.

“What can I get for you gentlemen?” she asked.

Brian said, “I’ll have a turkey sandwich on whole wheat with lettuce and tomato. Put mayonnaise on the side. I’ll have a bowl of minestrone soup for my side.”

Justin said, “I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries.”

“I’ll put your orders in. They should be right up.”

Brian took the sugar and cream on the table and prepared his coffee. Justin smiled as he watched the meticulous preparations and prepared his own coffee as well.

“Tonight was really eye-opening. I never thought about the roles that my “family” play.” He made an air quote when he said the word family. “Both my parents were drunks, so I’m not sure who enabled who. I know I sure as hell didn’t try to keep the family together. Once I was old enough to escape on my own, I stayed away as much as possible.”

“Did you know that people who have alcoholic parents are much more prone to developing alcohol problems themselves?” Justin asked. 

“Another thing to thank dear ole mom and dad for,” Brian said, the sarcasm in his voice evident even to the casual observer.

“But they’re not the ones I’m talking about. Michael is an enabler and Lindsay is probably one too. They both encourage my “bad” behavior.” Brian put air quotes on the word bad. I’ve told you about my concerns in telling Michael. He often took me home from the bars when I was too drunk or high to get there on my own. He sees it as his way of keeping me safe. But I really think it is the only way that he feels important.”

Justin took a sip of his coffee. He hoped that tonight’s meeting would get Brian thinking about his friends. Justin had not tried to push the envelope on this topic, preferring to wait until Brian came to the conclusions on his own. “Tell me why you think that way.”

“Michael and I have been friends since we were 14. I’m a successful businessman, but Michael works in retail. He isn’t really that successful in life. I think he needs to feel important and by hanging on my coattails, he has a role in keeping me successful. He can’t compete in my business world, but he can make himself valuable in my personal life by caring for me when I can’t.” Brian took a sip of his coffee and picked up his spoon to stir it a bit more. Looking around the coffee shop, he noticed that most of the patrons were gone at this hour. He was glad for the feeling of privacy.

“Now that I’m not drinking, I don’t need him to get me home and keep me safe. He’s lost his connection to me and his feeling of importance.”

“I’ve never met Michael, but that makes sense. Do you think he will be a problem tomorrow night? Push you to drink so he can feel important again?”

“I could see that happening,” Brian said and frowned. “I guess I need to figure this out beforehand.”

The waitress brought their food. “It’s hot. Be careful. Don’t want you burning yourself.” She smiled at them and refilled their coffee cups. “Let me know if you need anything. My name is Melissa.”

Brian picked up his sandwich and took a bite of it. Remembering that there was no mayo on it, he put it down and took off the top piece of bread, putting mayo on it, and then repeated the action on the other piece of bread. He put the sandwich together and took another bite. “Much better,” he said. 

“I can hear him now. Brian, its only one drink. One drink isn’t going to hurt you. You always drink at Babylon. Do you want me to find Anita? I’m sure she has some good stuff you can take.” Brian cringed as he heard Michael’s familiar voice in his head. 

“That sounds like it could be a problem. What do you want to do?”

“Calvin said we have to think about other people’s roles in our lives as they are impacted by our drinking too. I guess I need to talk to him before we go to Babylon. Maybe I should start with Woody’s first and not go to Babylon.”

“Your call. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Brian thought for a minute, shaking his head. “No. It isn’t going to change and I miss dancing and picking up tricks. Sure, I can do that at Woody’s, well the tricking part. But I just need to talk to Michael first. I’ll stop by his shop in the afternoon. That should be a fun conversation. NOT.”

“Do you know what you're going to tell him?” Justin asked, understanding that this would be a critical conversation. 

Brian looked at Justin, realizing that this might be the most important conversation he would have in the next few weeks. Unless he could get Michael on board, he would most likely be unsuccessful. But did Brian really want Michael to have that kind of power over him? Did he want anyone to have that kind of power? 

“I think he needs to hear a lot of things. Maybe the first thing he needs to understand is that he cannot continue to be my savior.”

“Your savior?” Justin asked. He was pushing Brian but felt he was ready to commit to a path of sobriety and responsibility.

“I need him to understand that I can take care of myself and that I am responsible for my own behavior. I think he needs to understand that I want sobriety.”

“That sounds all very noble. Do you think he will listen?” Justin asked, wishing that he could make this easier but understanding that until Brian learned to stand up for his own needs, he would be unsuccessful. He took another bite of his cheeseburger, enjoying the melted cheese mixed with pickles and onions. The coffee shop was really more of a diner and he thought their cheeseburgers could beat the flavor of most upscale restaurants in town. 

“I don’t know, but I really need him to believe that I want this. I guess it boils down to the consequences. If he pushes me to drink, then he is pushing me to not be the best person I can be,” Brian said as he explained what he finally was grasping from the meeting today. 

“Enablers have a role in sobriety. They make excuses for the alcoholic, accepting the behavior. Michael seems to have been your enabler.”

“Yes. He definitely makes excuses for my behavior. In his eyes, he thinks I can do no harm and no one can convince him otherwise. While I do enjoy the hero worship, I think it is time for me to be a normal human being again,” Brian said. 

“Brian, he has a role in your life. When you tell him you are sober; he will lose that role as your enabler. Tread carefully,” Justin said, urging caution. 

“So do you think I need to figure out a way for him to be in my life without the caregiving?” Brian asked. 

“That is your call. Meeting our own needs is hard enough without trying to meet other people’s needs,” Justin said before he took another bite of his cheeseburger. He took another sip of his coffee and then looked at Brian. “Tell me what you want to do and I will support you.”

“I guess the decision depends on what role I want Michael to play in my life. I know I can’t let him be the enabler anymore. Let me think about it. There’s another meeting tomorrow night and I can make up my mind afterward. Liberty avenue doesn’t get hopping before 11:00.” Brian had finished his turkey sandwich and soup; although he really couldn’t tell you what either of them tasted like. He always left his meetings with Justin with more questions than answers. 

“Sounds like a plan. But back to my original question of the evening. Do you want to do something to celebrate your legal counsel?” Justin asked. He knew Brian had been very excited when he called this afternoon and he didn’t want the man to go home feeling like it had been an empty victory.

Brian looked at Justin and saw his sincerity and appreciated that he only wanted to help him, rather than be with him for a personal reason. Justin didn’t see Brian as an asshole or a partier. He saw him as a man who struggled with alcohol and who he wanted to help. Justin’s only altruism was that he believed in Brian and wanted him to be successful in his sobriety journey. 

“No. I’m good. I think tomorrow will be the day to celebrate. By then, I will have made up my mind what to do about Gus, Lindsay, and Michael. We’ve talked about all three of them so it is not a rash decision on my part. Now that I have a clearer picture, I think I can make some decisions.” Brian waved to Melissa and mouthed the words check. 

She returned to the table a few minutes later, bringing two checks. “Pay at the counter whenever you’re ready. No rush. Have a good night and come back again.” She smiled at both men and walked away.

Brian stood up as Justin did and leaned over to hug him. “Thanks, Justin. I value your unbiased opinion. I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow, so better be calling it a night.”

Justin returned the hug, somewhat surprised at Brian’s gesture. He smiled at Brian and said, “Later.” They walked to the counter, paid their respective checks, and walked to the parking lot. 

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day for Brian Kinney and Justin hoped that he would make some sound decisions. Regardless, he was willing to support him in whatever way he could.

 

TBC


	23. Possessions

When Brian got home he unlocked the loft door, placed his mail on the island in the kitchen and looked at his home. His kitchen was furnished with top of the line stainless steel appliances that were placed amidst granite countertops and stone tile flooring. Moving his eyes toward the living area, he looked at the designer couch, the expensive paintings, and SUPER HD 4K TV; all of them shouted to the even the most casual observer that he had money to spend on nice things. His eyes naturally gravitated to the liquor cabinet, even though his mind knew it was bereft of liquor. He’d had a great day and he really wanted a drink to celebrate. Both Justin and Ted had offered to join him for a celebratory meal but he’d declined. He ate because he had to sustain his body, but it had never been an activity that he thought about. Well, he did think about it when it came to watching his intake, but when it came down to planning a nice meal or looking forward to eating out at a special restaurant, that had never been on his radar. 

 

Justin had asked him what he wanted to do to celebrate and he stated that he had no idea. While most people celebrated with a meal or special treat, he realized that he celebrated by buying himself presents. When he was a child, his parents rarely gave him presents for his birthday or Christmas, using the excuse that there was no money. He understood even back then that meant that his parents used the money to buy booze and there was none left for him or his sister. He loved nice things; clothing, shoes, furniture, and cars. He looked forward to trying out a new club or shopping at the latest Prada collection show. Since he hadn’t received these items as a child, he’d learned at an early age, that he would have to give them to himself. There were few real celebrations in his home; therefore he had had to develop his own brand of celebrating his life or accepting his failures. Of course, he often used to celebrate with booze, but that was no longer on the table. 

 

As he worked through the program, he was beginning to understand more about his life. He’d been replacing his parent’s affection with booze and objects. He hid his feelings in the bottle, just like his parents. His parents didn’t express love or much less like for each other or their children. He’d been told many times that he should never have been born, that his mother should have aborted him. His drinking was beginning to make sense. He’d learned more at his parent’s home than he realized. He used to celebrate by drinking and he hadn’t thought about any other ways to mark the good things in his life. 

 

When he was drinking, he didn’t have to worry about what people thought about him. He didn’t have to seek their approval. He was the “Stud of Liberty Avenue” and everyone wanted a chance to get in his bed. Of course, he didn’t go to Woody’s or Babylon anymore, so he’d lost that identity. People on the street didn’t whisper about the backroom or his 9-inch cock and how sex with Brian Kinney was an honor. His life had been built around Babylon and tricking. 

 

He had to rethink his life and how he wanted to live it. He had been given the green light regarding Gus, so he was not as worried about Lindsay and her reaction to his news, but Michael was a different matter. The more he thought about Michael, the more he accepted that if it weren’t for Michael taking him home when he was too drunk or high to drive, he wouldn’t have much in common with him. He owes Michael a lot, but could their relationship change to one where Michael taking care of Brian wasn’t the primary glue that kept them together?

 

He yawned and decided that sleep was the primary important activity at this time. He got ready for bed, realizing that the pull from the empty liquor cabinet had been minimal. He hoped that would be the same tomorrow night when he got to Woody’s or Babylon.

 

In the morning, he went to the diner for breakfast. Ted and Emmett were in the booth, but Michael had not arrived. 

 

“Tonight’s the night, ladies,” Brian said as he slid into the booth.

 

“Oh, you are going to pop the question? Who’s the lucky man?” Emmett teased. 

 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Brian?” Ted asked, caution in his voice. 

 

“It won’t get easier and I miss my playground,” Brian said. 

 

“Anything I can do?” Ted asked. He understood the struggles Brian was facing. While he was not the “Stud” that Brian was, the bars were a big part of his life before he got clean.

 

“Keep Michael occupied. I’m going to go see him at lunch and tell him about my sobriety. I think he’ll have a hard time believing this is what I want and I can see him trying to get me to drink or use tonight.”

 

“Sure thing, Brian,” Ted said. He took a sip of his coffee and stirred it a little.

 

“Of course, sweetie, Michael can be a little dense at times. Did I tell you how proud I am of you, Brian? What you’re doing is so impressive,” Emmett said as he took a bite of his pancakes. Emmett seemed to eat every carb on the menu and never gain an ounce. Brian watched with a mixture of envy and disgust as he poured what seemed like a pint of syrup on the remaining pancakes before taking another bite. 

 

“Impressive is earning a Clio for an ad. This is just life,” Brian said, dismissing the hard work and introspection that he’d done in the last month. He knew he’d never thought so much about his life prior to going to AA. Of course, he had never cared about his life until it almost wasn’t there. 

 

Michael came into the diner and slid next to Brian. He waved at Debbie, the waitress who was also his mom. 

 

“Pancakes and bacon for me. I’ll have some coffee too,” Michael said, not even using a please or thank you.

 

“Please and thank you would go a long way, Michael,” Debbie chastised her son.

 

Michael rolled his eyes and said, “Please.”

 

Debbie huffed and left to put in his order.

 

“Brian, I’m so excited about tonight. I can’t wait to go to Woody’s and shoot some pool and then to Babylon. I bet Anita is eager to see you back. I’m sure her profits have gone way down since you stopped hitting Babylon.”

 

Brian cringed when he heard Micahel’s diatribe, but chose to ignore it for now. He wanted to have the conversation without all of Liberty Avenue hearing about his business. He finished his last bite of egg white omelet and said, “Gotta go, ladies. I have a meeting in less than half an hour.” Brian picked up his bill, glanced cursorily at it and laid down a $20.00 bill. Ted wondered why he looked at the bill as he always paid with a $20.00 and Michael envied him that he had so much money all the time. 

 

Brian went to Kinnetik and worked until lunchtime. He told Cynthia he’d be gone for a while but didn’t tell her where he was going. This wasn’t unusual so she didn’t think anything about his leaving.

 

Brian walked down to Red Cape Comics and glanced at the people on the street. He typically didn’t people watch, but today he was more aware. He attributed his people watching to his upcoming conversation. Last night as he was laying in bed, closing his eyes to let Morpheus take over, he thought about the masks that people wear every day and how others see them. He wondered if people would change their thoughts about him after tonight. He was still the “Stud of Liberty Avenue”, but would be the stud without the booze and the drugs? Were the booze and the drugs part of his persona? He could still party hard at night and still make it to work the next day, despite the hangover. 

 

Now he made it to work early and was very productive. He rarely worked late, but that might be due to the need to attend an AA meeting every night. He corrected himself as he continued to walk the sidewalk toward the comic shop. He was productive because he wasn’t hungover when he got to work. He no longer needed 3 cups of coffee to jolt his system or to clear it of the toxins from the night before. He was able to work from the time he got to work until he needed to leave. He felt better, both physically and mentally since he stopped drinking and he found he slept better too. He realized that he liked the new Brian Kinney.

 

He walked into the shop and there was no one around. It was late for lunch, after 1:30, and anyone who would stop in during the typical lunch hour would be back at work. It was too early for the after school crowd as well. He’d timed his arrival for just this time so he and Michael would not be interrupted. Michael heard the familiar jingle of the door and came from the stockroom.

 

“Brian…. Everything okay? Not used to you dropping in the shop in the middle of the afternoon,” Michael said as he walked back toward the storeroom. He walked to the mini-fridge and grabbed a Coke for himself and a bottle of water for Brian. After handing Brian the water, he popped the top of the Coke and sat behind the register on the tall bar stool. 

 

“I came to talk to you,” Brian said. He thought he had everything figured out before he walked in the store, but now he seemed to stumble over his thoughts. 

 

“Brian, you’re scaring me. Tell me what is going on.”

 

“It’s about tonight. I won’t be drinking or doing any of Anita’s drugs.”

 

“I don’t understand. I know you haven’t been to the bars for a while, but you look fine. Has the doctor got you on some weird medicine? It’s never stopped you before.”

 

“No, Mikey. I’m not taking any medication and I’m fine. I just don’t drink or do drugs anymore,” Brian said. Telling Ted and Emmett had been much easier than this conversation. Telling Michael seemed like telling a child. He knew he would have to spell it all out for him.

 

“What do you mean you don’t drink or do drugs? Since when? I’ve known you since we were 14 and ever since your junior year in high school, you’ve been drinking or popping something. What happened to you? Are you sick? Are you dying?” Michael rushed Brian from behind the counter and gave him a bear hug. 

 

“No, I’m not sick and I’m not dying. In fact, it is just the opposite. Now that I’m not drinking or doing drugs, I feel like a new person,” Brian said. He took a sip of his water, waiting for his words to sink into Mikey’s brain. 

 

“What? Repeat what you just said, Brian. I’m sure you did not say that you are no longer drinking or doing drugs,” Michael said. 

 

“Yep. You heard right. I haven’t been going to the bars so I could stay away from the booze,” Brian said. He watched Mikey try to process this information. It would have been funny if it had not been so serious. Mikey looked like a fish as he opened and closed his mouth multiple times. 

 

“So what happened? I can’t believe you just gave up booze and drugs. Did you get arrested? Is this some legal shit? If so, maybe Carl can help you out.” It seemed that Michael was still in his rescue mode when it came to Brian’s well-being. Even when Brian was telling him that he was fine and felt great, Michael felt he needed fixing as he was changing the way he normally did things.

 

“Mikey, no legal shit, No one is making me do this. I’m doing it all on my own. Well, Gus has something to do with it, but this is for me.”

 

Michael nodded his head, but he didn’t really understand. “So, are we still on for tonight? I can’t wait to go to Babylon and Woody’s and have a few beers as we shoot some pool and watch you pick up tricks,” Michael said.

 

“Michael, What part of I won’t be drinking did you not understand? I’ll be dancing and picking up tricks, but there will be no drinking or visits to Anita.” 

 

Michael looked at Brian and nodded his head again. “Okay. Have it your way. I’ll still be enjoying a few beers. What’s Babylon without the beer?” 

 

Brian did not have time to go into a discussion of sobriety nor did he really want to do that. He put down the Iron Man Pez dispenser that he’d been fidgeting with and left to return to Kinnetik.

 

When he returned, he saw Ted’s door was open and he knocked on the door. Ted looked up and waved at him.

 

“What can I do for you, Bri?”

 

“I just talked to Michael or should I say talked at Michael. The man is as dense as a steel door. I told him I wouldn’t be drinking or visiting Anita and his first words after that statement was that he couldn’t wait to shoot some pool and share a few beers,” Brian said as he ran his hand through his hair. He had enough product in it for nothing to be out of place after his move. He frowned deeply, the tiny crow’s feet barely visible by the corner of his eye. “I have one persona, “Stud of Liberty Avenue” and Michael can’t seem to wrap his head around that I might change.”

 

“So what’s your plan?” Ted asked. He was afraid that Michael would react like that and he wanted Brian to think ahead. Planning for contingencies was a great strategy for sobriety.

 

“My plan?” Brian asked as he moved to close the door and sit in one of Ted’s blue office chairs. The chairs were a standard design, with no obvious amenities as Ted rarely had people in his office. Most of the meetings he had involved numerous people and were held in one of the three conference rooms in the building. Brian stared at the picture of the Sydney Opera house that Ted had hanging on the right side of his desk. Its placement allowing him to view the magnificent architecture and think about the amazing Operas that were performed in its walls. 

 

Ted had been holding a file and he placed it on the desk. Looking at Brian, he said, “ Yes, a plan. Based on your conversation with Michael, he apparently doesn’t believe you when you told him that you are not going to drink or visit Anita. You have to be ready for him to push you to do those things.”

 

“We just talked about the roles people play in our addiction and the first person I thought about was Michael. Michael’s role is my caregiver, or the fancy term, Enabler. He thinks it is his responsibility to make sure that I get home from the bars intact and that he watches out for me. If I’m not drinking, I don’t need him to do that.”

 

Ted nodded his head. “I’d have to say I agree with you. Michael is always touting himself as your best friend, but it has always struck me wrong that a best friend would not intervene when their friend was literally getting wasted right in front of them. Obviously, a friend would intervene on any occasion when the person imbibed too much, but Michael encourages your behavior.”

 

“Exactly. I was telling Justin, he’s my sponsor, that Michael’s role would disappear if I wasn’t drinking. He wouldn’t need to make excuses for my behavior since I would be totally aware of everything I did.”

 

“That is great insight, Brian. Typically, when a person gets sober, they stop hanging out with the people that they used drugs or drank with. Since I don’t see you ending your friendship with Michael, I ask you again, what is your plan?”

 

Brian rubbed his hand over his face several times and darted his eyes around Ted’s office. In addition to the Sydney Opera House, there was a beautiful wall hanging of the New York Metropolitan Opera house on the other side of Ted’s desk and behind his desk was a large abstract painting with yellows, blues, and green brush strokes. Brian had always liked that painting and he realized that he was more observant of art since he’d met Justin. Thinking of Justin, he smiled, knowing Justin would be proud of him right now as he was talking to people about his recovery. This was an important step and one he’d been avoiding.

 

“For now, I’m asking you and Emmett to watch him/ us. If he starts suggesting I should imbibe in either one, just distract him or get Emmett to pull me on the dance floor. I anticipate that I’ll be so happy to be playing in my playground that I won’t be doing much surveying around the bar.”

 

“I can do that. I know Emmett is on board. For what it's worth, Brian, I’m sorry.” Ted said. He picked up the cup of coffee that was on his desk and took a sip.

 

“Sorry’s bullshit,” Brian said, repeating his all too familiar mantra.

 

“Brian, whatever you want to believe, but in this instance, I am truly sorry that Michael isn’t at your back. But I imagine that his response was not unexpected.”

 

Brian nodded in agreement. “I’ve got a project to review before I have to leave tonight. I’ve taken enough time today to deal with Michael.” Brian stood up and left the room. 

 

Ted was pleased that Brian had come to him. He would do everything in his power to see that his friend’s foray back into his favorite playground was a success.

 

TBC


End file.
